Unfold
by EruditeWitch
Summary: What happens to each character as they face the night before the fabled Final Confrontation with Lord Voldemort? What would you do if you were facing death? Lyrics provided by the magnificent Jason Mraz.
1. Chapter 1

Prologue:

The eerie quiet of the night was giving way to sunrise, which illuminated the dust-streaked face of a worn young man who was raising his wand toward the menacing snake that they'd lured out of hiding. br

As Harry was casting 'Avada Kedavra' at Nagini, his anxiety only began to worsen. She turned into dust, and the final Horcrux was destroyed, but at great cost. Voldemort would only have left the snake in her den if he was busy somewhere else, and that meant that somewhere, someone was suffering. br

Ron and Hermione slowly lowered their wands, with identical looks of relief spreading across their faces. Harry knew their relief would subside just as his had in a few moments. br

"We have to find him now. We have to find him and kill him." Harry said, in a frighteningly deadpan tone. br

"We've got a plan, mate. We've been over this a million times. We'll lure him to Hogwarts. He'll come, he wants you. He has no idea what we've done," Ron stated in a calm and even voice, br

"Because if he did he would have already retaliated," Hermione finished. Or made another…the fear that had gone unspoken amongst them all. br

Hermione and Ron had gotten along surprisingly well during this journey. They worked together for Harry, and even entertained him a little with their bickering. As she became silent, Ron put a comforting arm around her shoulder, causing her to relax her stiff demeanor. Harry marveled at how much war can change people, and then felt a pang of guilt at the fact that if it weren't for his mission, they might be a normal couple now. br

Hermione stepped forward and hugged Harry fiercely. He allowed himself to melt into his friend for a brief moment; thankful he had people like Ron and Hermione to fall on when he needed them most. br

"We all know what we have to do and we'll be there with you until the end. We have the element of surprise on our sides. You know this can work," she explained as she moved closer and Ron moved once again to her side. br

Harry stood upright once more, resolute. "We need to alert the Order. Tell them it's time to execute our plan. Let's go to the Burrow and talk to your parents, Ron. We can send the Patronuses from there," he said with a strength and determination beyond his years. br

The Trio gathered their things from the abandoned meadow in Great Hangleton, and Hermione sent their trunks and camp gear ahead of them to The Burrow. As he was readying to Apparate, Harry reflected on the past year. They started in the summer, after Harry's birthday, and now it was again July and the Horcruxes were gone. Camping from place to place and searching was now over, all that was left was the battle. His mind threw away the fear and rested on Ginny's face. With three distinct pops, the meadow emptied before the sun had completely risen. br

Molly Weasley was already awake when she saw the familiar luggage fall expertly onto the kitchen floor, very near where she would be making breakfast. She decided to meet her missing brood with a contented smile; despite the anger and worry she was feeling over their dangerous mission. It was obvious by now that even Harry and Hermione had places in her heart as surrogate children. br

The first pop brought her Hermione, followed closely by Ron. And in classic Harry fashion, he arrived a good half a minute after the others, casting a relieved smile coupled with a brooding gaze at the anxious mother. br

Molly squealed something unintelligible and pulled Ron into a hug first. It never ceased to amaze her how tall her sons had gotten, but Ron always shocked her the most. He was her baby boy and she barely came up past his heart. br

Careful so that the others wouldn't hear him, Ron leaned in close and whispered to his mother, "I missed you, Mum, but don't' worry, I'm ok," he turned red as she regarded him, so to spare him, Molly reluctantly moved on to Hermione. br

The young witch stood so elegant, with an air of hard-earned wisdom Molly rarely saw in girls her age. Hermione was never like the rest. "It's wonderful to see you again, Mrs. Weasley." Hermione smiled, though her eyes remained troubled.

"Call me Molly, love," she said as she took Hermione in her arms and whispered, "Thank you for taking care of my son." Hermione looked as though she was going to question the statement, but just blushed and backed away. br

Molly turned to reach for Harry, but he had already taken her into a warm hug. Molly was taken back, but understood. Harry needed to be reassured, to feel a part of the real world again. She knew this and deftly stroked his back until he finally released his breath and backed away. br

"We need to get the Order here immediately. I've got a plan to execute. Professor McGonagall knows what to do. We've been in contact with her for months now. Lupin does as well. Contact them and the rest of your sons, and they'll do the rest." Harry said with a strength of purpose and natural sense of leadership that shocked Molly into silence. br

"I'll do that, dear," said Arthur coming down the stairwell. "Ron, it's good to see you're well. Welcome back Harry, Hermione," Arthur said wiping the sleep from his eyes. "We can convene the Order here or at Grimmauld by this afternoon." br

"Actually, can we have them all meet at Hogwarts, and tell them to come prepared? As I said, Remus and Professor McGonagall will understand," Harry said to the room before turning to Hermione. "Hermione, get out the coins, and see who comes. Tell them to meet us in the Room of Requirement at around four," Harry knew they might not be paying attention as school was out, but he really needed the DA there. Not just for help, but to know that they were safe. br

Thoughts of Ginny sleeping soundly in her room started to invade Harry's head. He knew she would not let herself be excluded from this, no matter how much he wanted to protect her. "Molly, it might be a good idea if Ginny comes for this," he said more quietly then he meant to. br

This was going to be the biggest moment of their lives.

The members of The Order (namely, Arthur Weasley, Remus Lupin and Minerva McGonagall) decided it would be best if everyone met in the Headmistress' office, so that they would be less conspicuous. br

A great number of people were grouped around what had been the Headmistress' desk, but was now a long table in a magically expanded room, speaking in hushed voices, which the portraits of all the former Headmasters were straining to hear. Harry was reluctantly seated at the head of the table, with Ron and Hermione sitting on his right. Minerva brought up the opposite end of the table, with Flitwick on one side and Aberforth Dumbledore on the other. If the situation had been different, Harry would have been shocked to see him, in the same room where Harry had spent so much time with his brother. Among the upwards of thirty people were Fred, George, Bill and Charlie looking more somber than ever before. Moody, Tonks and Kinglsey looked to be in deep discussion while Lupin ran his hand over Tonks' small pale one distractedly. Fleur was seated with an unknown woman in a St. Mungo's uniform, as the first Weasley grandchild, Corbin, cooed in her lap. Madame Pomfrey was conversing with Hagrid and Firenze, making her looks very out of place. Then Harry's eyes fell to Ginny, who had rushed into the room and taken the seat right next to his, and he met her eyes before speaking. He was completely nervous addressing a number of wizards who were probably much more experienced and wise than he would ever be. Ginny put her hand on Harry's under the table and looked up at him with potent meaning before he stood to speak. He was almost rendered speechless at the first form of contact he had had with Ginny in almost a year. br

After Harry (with welcome interjections by Hermione) explained the plan, some members made helpful adjustments and they were on their way. They moved into smaller groups for further instruction, to work out the minute details that would help win the day. It was only everyone working together that would win this. This is part of what Harry had, that Voldemort didn't. Friends. br

"We're off to the shop to fetch some useful things," Fred said to the room. He and George Disapparated shortly thereafter. br

Harry nervously followed Ginny to where Ron and Hermione were talking in the corner under the portrait of Artemis Fortescue, who looked fascinated by their discussion. Harry almost didn't want to interrupt, but time was rushing forward, "We should head on to the Room of Requirement, whoever responded has probably been waiting for ages." The four of them left, winding their way through the halls to the traditional meeting place of the now re-invigorated DA. br The secret room held a small amount of people, but more than Harry had expected. Parvati and Padma were missing, as they had been all year, pulled into hiding by their parents. Dean and Seamus were there already posturing about their wartime abilities. Harry's eyes nearly bugged out of his head as he saw Luna in quiet conversation with none other than Cho Chang. Neville was trying to ease the mind of Colin Creevey, who looked as though he was to have a panic attack. Zacharias Smith greeted them at the door, somber after what had happened to his family over the past year, as though he was the only one that knew full well what to expect. br

Harry cleared his throat and the silence was instantaneous. He proceeded to describe what he had done, at least partially, for knowledge of the Horcruxes was too important to share with too many, even at so late a stage of the game, no matter how trusted they might be. He also shared his opinions of what was to come, to the rapt attention of his peers. By the end, Luna was comforting a teary Cho, Neville was gazing at Ron and Hermione as though they were otherworldly heroes, instead of his close friends, and everyone else had retreated to a dull whisper. br

Seamus stepped up "So he's coming here? You're going to lure him here and you need the DA's help?" he asked frightened. br

"Well, I do need all of the help I can get. However, the Order is asking to evacuate wizard towns and I won't ask any of you to stay. Just remember, this will come to your doorstep if we don't mend this now," Harry answered. br

Dean stood up next to Seamus and took his hand. There were a few gasps and some awkward glances at the tender way their hands clasped. "We're in!" Dean said looking resolutely as Seamus. Slowly, everyone else in the room stood up and pledged a silent loyalty to their reluctant leader. br

Harry cleared his throat, overwhelmed at the show of support. "Be ready tomorrow at eight a.m. don't tell anyone, we need the element of surprise." The room began to empty with a common knowledge that tomorrow would be a day that shaped their lives. br

Dean and Seamus exited first after shaking Harry's hand, and then continued the fierce firm grip they had on each other. br

A dreamy voice echoed from behind the trio and Ginny "I need to leave for a few hours. I shall be back shortly," Luna said and turned to leave. br

"Luna no! It's not a good idea now. Your father will be fine," Ginny said, putting an arm around her. br

Luna's vacant expression shifted to desperation, "It's not my father. I must go now. I will return," She cried, and rapidly exited the room. br

"I hope she's ok," Hermione said looking worried and very worn. br

After Luna left, they noticed everyone else was gone. The room was vacant but for Cho and Neville, who were nestled in opposite corners of the room, staring at their hands. "I'm sorry, I never meant to call you dull. You aren't dull at all." Harry looked up to see whom she was talking to; he didn't remember anyone ever calling him dull. She had a steady stream of tears falling off of her tiny nose, as she turned her head to gaze helplessly at Neville. Everyone's expression turned to surprise, but this evening was full of romantic and unexpected moments. They were on the brink of war, after all. br

Cho was sobbing into her hands now, "I can't lose you, Nev, not now." Neville had rushed to her side moments ago and lifted her face in front of his. br

"I'm sorry I called you self-absorbed. I can't be without you either. This week has been awful; I've just been worried about you and wondering what you've been doing. Imagine if we were to…d…d…" Neville said to her like she was the only one in the room. They cried for a little longer at that new and overwhelming thought. Neville took his handkerchief out and in his slow and clumsy fashion; he wiped away the tears from Cho's delicate features. "I love you," he whispered. She kissed him and they rushed out of the room immediately. br

"Bloody hell!" Ron said upon their exit. br

SMACK

"Ronald!" Hermione yelled, trying to admonish him for swearing as she fought her own tears. br

" 'Mione," Ron said as he stood to comfort her with an arm at her shoulders. Their faces grew close, too close. When they realized what was happening, they quickly moved away. br

"Right then, I've drawn up a bit of a strategy for us," Ron said shakily, as he removed a large roll of parchment from his knapsack. br

"Wow Ron! This is amazing. When did you find the time to do this?" Hermione asked as she again, almost unconsciously sat impossibly close to him. He blushed and beamed. br

The friends sat in awe at Ron's explanation, and at the end, were stunned into silence by the magnitude of what they were facing. Ginny, placed her hand on the parchment, "You're right in the front," she said as she looked at Harry. He had been looking at the floor, but his hands were shaking. Again, Ginny took his hand to steady him. Harry let out a sigh and looked at her with brimming eyes. br

"I'm going for a walk," she said. And she left the room. br

Harry looked around the room, "I'm going to go up to the Common Room and take inventory," he said as he sauntered out glumly in the opposite direction from Ginny. Ron and Hermione were now finally alone in the ever-dimming light of a room lined with pillows. br 


	2. You and I both

AN:/ Okay, now that I've given you a taste of what's to come, I'd like to enlighten you guys on what I'm doing here. It's kind of a songfic, where I base each chapter on a Jason Mraz song. I started the story collectively, and will end it collectively. But throughout the meat of the story, I will focus on individual couples to maximize fluff! I welcome all reviews; I need to know if I get too cheesy.

Chapter 1: You and I both

Fred and George entered with a 'pop' into the alarmingly empty street in front of their shop. "Okay, we'll need lots of shield hats and gloves. We should also give Harry the prototype cape," George said as he frantically entered the shop. Fred, however, was quiet. George waved a hand in front of Fred's face.

"Yeah we'll do that," Fred said, and ran out of the room.

George continued to put packages together and send them off to the Hogwarts' receiving area. He really didn't understand what had gotten into Fred. He was scared too. He could die tomorrow too, but why waste time stalking about?

George's mind began to dance across his fears of tomorrow. His whole family was going to be in this. Everyone he knows and loves would be risking his or her lives tomorrow, including himself, which happened to be George's favorite person in the world. Well, that wasn't precisely true. Not everyone he loved would be risking their lives. One person wouldn't even know she was in danger, but why was his mind on her, that Muggle girl?

She wasn't just "that Muggle girl" though. She wasn't just some girl George would play a little slap and tickle with on his days off. Of course that's what George would tell himself every time he snuck over to her flat for a late night romp. He fancied himself a great one for putting it about, charming the pants off of a few birds, and moving on to his next conquest.

In reality, there had only been the one for months now. No one knew, she most likely didn't even think she was his only one.

Fred came back into the room, looking much more relieved and back to his old self. "Tut Tut dear brother, you always were the lazy one. Buck up and let's get to work!" Fred said, George scowled a bit, but began setting out products again. Just then, a large crash was heard against the dustbins outside of their flat. Fred and George drew their wands but the visitor knocked.

"Yes?" Fred said in a falsely jovial singsong voice.

"It's me," came the panicked whimper of a woman.

"Where's the best mole on my body?" Fred asked. George didn't even know the answer to that one.

"Why, the underside of your knob of course," said the voice, a little less panicked and a little more throaty. Fred threw open the door only to be engulfed in a mass of braids and blue quidditch robes. It was Angelina Johnson. George laughed despite himself. It figures Fred would want a quick romp before the battle. He always said, "A little shag clears my head."

Angelina removed herself from Fred and raised the parchment in her hand. "Tomorrow?" she asked, and Fred nodded. Angelina had tears in her eyes, "I'm coming," she said. Fred shook his head frantically and drew her closer to wipe a tear from her cheek. George was more than shocked at how tender and familiar Fred and Angelina were. He knew Fred and Angelina shagged when she was in her off-season, but he didn't know it was serious. Was it serious?

"You can't come tomorrow, Angie. I can't lose you," Fred said as he held the girl

'_Angie? Can't lose you?' When did this happen?_ George thought. Was everyone pairing off?

"I don't want to stand idly by why you get yourself killed. I want to be with you even if there's a last second," Angelina pleaded. Fred and Angelina disappeared into the flat, leaving George to his own devices in the shop.

George walked out into the rainy night and Apparated. He found his feet pounding the stony and familiar streets of Ottery St. Catchpole of their own volition and soon he was at a simple brick apartment with a bright red door.

George met Samantha one year ago. She was no ordinary girl, but how could she be if she was interested in a Weasley? George and Fred spent every day that summer chasing what beautiful girls to be found in the small village. But George's gaze had fallen on one girl in particular, and she didn't seem interested at all.

Fred and George got supplies from various Muggle shops so that no one would be privy to their secrets. Upon a trip to get paper, George met Samantha. He walked in with his classic strut and his eyes were drawn to her. She was tall, with blonde hair that was currently falling over a large foreboding book. She was large, a plump girl by most standards, but George found her curves, especially the two practically popping out of her blouse, captivating. She sat up when she heard him walk in and revealed a pair of deep green eyes behind dark-rimmed glasses. George got ready to turn on the charm.

"Do you have any paper, miss?" he asked as he puffed out his chest, covered by a designer green Muggle sweater.

She looked him directly in the eye, "This is a paper shop," she said dryly.

"Right," George said, deflated just a bit as he made his way around the shop. She continued to read as George gathered the brightly colored paper they used for order forms.

An old woman walked in and handed Samantha a two pence piece for a single piece of paper. She rolled her eyes and bade her a very un-cheery good day.

"I reckon she has a great many important things to say if she'll spend a whole tuppence on a piece of paper," George said sarcastically.

Samantha laughed and closed her book promptly, "Are you all ready with that?"

"Only if I can pay in all tuppence," George answered in the most serious tone he could muster.

They spent the rest of the evening making fun of her customers as George showed her his card tricks. George was instantly smitten…with a Muggle. He was very focused on the shop, as it had just opened, and Samantha wanted to finish up school. So they made an arrangement. They had both decided that a serious relationship was a seriously bad idea, so Samantha and George met a few times a week for a shag and that was that.

_Was it you who spoke the words that things would happen but not to me?_

But when George would opt to stay the night at her modern-styled flat, they would talk until sunrise, and he would get to know her. The more he knew her, the more he wanted to know.

They had a passionate relationship all year. He would meet her in the alley behind her shop, or he would sneak up to her flat in the middle of the night. Sometimes she would get frustrated they never went to his flat, but he just blamed it on a loud roommate. On the weekends, George would stay all night and all day Saturday and they would talk. They spoke of her passion for politics, religion, and even discussed his shop and family, though leaving out important details. When the time came, he never wanted to leave.

_Oh things are gonna happen naturally._

Samantha was deeply cynical but believed in fate, which she often told George. She was classic in the mantra that everything happened for a reason. George was starting to believe that fate is what brought him to a Muggle. It helps him understand what he's fighting for.

_Oh taking your advice I'm looking on the bright side, and balancing the whole thing._

He was waiting for her to say it, though. To say she wanted more. He couldn't pluck up the courage himself, he feared losing face. He tried to hide those feelings away and pick up other women, but the other women didn't have the fire and intelligence behind their eyes like Sam did. So, he continued to follow their "rules" and just revel in Sam's touch while he could. He couldn't bring himself to think that she may find happiness with some other bloke either.

_But often times those words get tangled up in lines, and the bright lights turn to night._

Now he stood on that rainy afternoon waiting on her doorstep. He didn't know what he expected or what he wanted. He just knew he could die tomorrow and the thing he was most afraid of was losing her. He was going to tell her tonight. This was the closest he felt to having nothing left to lose.

_Until the dawn it brings another day to sing about the magic that was you and me._

He finally found the courage to knock. He realized he'd never been to her home in the daytime, so she may be shocked to see him. The day was cold and dreary for July, almost sad. It was as if the weather knew what was coming. George heard footsteps and quickly conjured up some lilacs.

She opened the door and she had her hair pulled up in a messy bun with a pencil stuck in it. She was wearing her university sweatshirt and a pair of holey jeans. He always found her gorgeous when she studied. She looked incredibly surprised to see him standing there.

"George! Umm, come on in," she said suspiciously.

"I can come back later if you're busy," he said. She tilted her head to one side and then pulled him into a tight embrace.

"Don't leave, I'm actually glad you're here," she said as his face perked up. "I just have this awful feeling, I'm cold and it feels like nothing will ever be good again," she crossed her arms and leaned into George. He was glad to comfort her. "Are those lilacs?" she asked. George handed them to her. "How'd you know?" she asked, lifting her thin brows above the rims of her glasses.

"You always smell like them," he said, turning as red as Ron would have in that situation.

Samantha looked at George and ran her hands over his slightly unshaven face. George thought he saw a sad look in her eyes, but he dismissed it and kissed her softly.

_Cause you and I both loved what you and I spoke of.  
And others just read of, others only read of the love, the love that I love._

They moved into her bedroom, which had dark red curtains reminiscent of the Gryffindor's bed hangings. She also had a dark red bedspread with gold pillows. George had never seen her room in the light before and thought it odd that it looked so much like his at Hogwarts.

She leaned back and looked at him, "I don't know what it is, but I've always loved red and gold," she said and George just laughed, thanked fate, and kissed her again. This time, when they made love together, he took extra care to memorize every detail. Like the way his long fingers curved around her wide hips, how her hair was slowly falling out of her messy bun, and how her skin felt against his calloused hands. He whispered her name over and over again, so he would never forget it.

As they lie there sweating in the dim light of sunset, George took her hand. He would tell her everything now.

_See I'm all about them words, over numbers, unencumbered numbered words,_

"Sam, I need to tell you something," George said standing up and putting his black trousers back on.

She leaned up on an elbow, taking the sheet with her. "Does this have something to do with the fact that you are so pale and have been acting odd all day?" She asked. George nodded. Sam sat up and started to put her clothes back on. Then, she took his hand and led him to her sofa. "You can tell me, George. I do care about you," she said. George chest got a little lighter.

"I love you, Samantha," he said as strong as he could. Samantha stared at him unblinkingly and then went to say something, but George cut her off. "Don't say anything. I don't want to know what you would have said before I tell you, this," he stopped to gauge her expression. Samantha looked back at him questioningly. George became disheartened. He knew Samantha was easily cynical about love, because he was too.

_Hundreds of pages, pages, pages forwards,  
more words then I had ever heard and I feel so alive._

"Do you know that cold, empty feeling you had today? Well that's because a war is coming and I'm going to fight," he said.

"Now I would know if there was a war, George," she said carefully.

"Not if it is amongst wizards," he said slowly, not looking at her.

"Wizards? Like Gandalf? Are you some kind of odd D and D nut? If you are, it wouldn't bother me," she said smirking.

"Gandalf?" George said, momentarily thrown off his task.

"It's a wizard in The Lord of The Rings story," she explained.

"Never heard of it. But I'm being serious. I'm a wizard. And my world is at war," George said, keeping eye contact.

"What are you on about? Are you a serial murderer? Are you married? Oh god, you're married aren't you?" she asked getting angry.

"I'm a wizard. I can perform magic. I'm being serious," he pleaded.

"I thought you were more clever than this George Weasley. If you didn't want to be with me, you could just have said so. I made it without strings, an easy out. You don't need to play mind games," she said far too calmly.

George could tell she was fighting back tears, but she would never cry in front of him. He knew her well. He took out his wand, which she looked at with characteristic skepticism and a touch of fear. Muttering under his breath, he summoned a glass from the kitchen, and then filled it with water under her silent gaze. He handed her the glass, and she looked at him, blinking slightly, as though trying to logically think her way out of acceptance.

He knew now that he had to do something drastic, she wouldn't believe a simple spell. With a 'pop' he Disapparated and with another 'pop' reappeared in front of her. "I'm not lying," he said as he reached for her face. Sam let out a horrified scream. George could feel the lump in his throat now. She was actually looking at him with true fear.

"Listen Sam, I came here to tell you I love you and I do. Tomorrow I fight the battle of my life against a man who would like to see people like you; we call you Muggles, dead or under complete dominion. I'm fighting for you, whether you love me back or not," George said, fighting against the cold sinking sensation in his stomach at the stunned look on her face. He had to see her again, once she'd absorbed it all, or he wouldn't be whole. He pulled a charmed Galleon out of his pocket.

_You and I, you and I  
Not so little you and I anymore,_

_And with this silence brings a moral story  
more importantly evolving is the glory of a boy._

"I understand you're scared, I would be too. I understand if you don't feel the same way after all of this. But if you change your mind, all you have to do is touch this coin and it'll take you to my flat in London. I leave at sunrise. Please, I'm begging you…be safe," he finished quietly. He placed it on the coffee table, and then he kissed Samantha on the forehead, as she stood frozen to the spot.

With another 'pop' he was gone.

_And it's okay if you have go away  
Oh just remember the telephone works both ways  
And if I never ever hear them ring  
If nothing else I'll think the bells inside  
Have finally found you someone else and that's okay  
Cause I'll remember everything you sang_

Samantha sunk against the wall of her house and cried as she shook. Her white husky dog came over and cuddled up in her lap. She fell into a restless sleep there on the floor, dreaming of George disappearing in front of her face over and over again.

_I'm finally out of; finally, well I'm almost finally, finally, out of words._


	3. 1000 Things

Chapter 2: 1,000 things

Ron watched Harry leave and was concerned, but knew that it was sometimes better to let him just stew on occasions such as these, even if it was shaping up to be the end of the world tomorrow.

Ron was once again alone with Hermione, and he chanced a glance over at her to find her reading "Confronting the Faceless" and flicking her wand as her lips moved occasionally over a word or phrase. When she found something particularly important, she would bite her lower lip, and Ron would go absolutely mad. That intense look in her eyes just made things worse for Ron. He licked his lips and couldn't look away.

They had been through so much this year. Each one of them had been close to death and each one had to face their worst fears. Ron, Harry, and Hermione had spent a year chasing after pieces of a dark soul. It had taken an obvious toll on all of them.

Hermione had a constant look of apprehension in her eyes like she was waiting for something that lurked just around the corner. Harry became even more closed off and brooding. Ron was having nightmares about all they had seen and how many times they had almost lost one another.

But something else was changing as well. Ron and Hermione had gotten closer, though nothing had been said. They still had rows, but he was more direct with her, and they had been affectionate with each other without worry or pretense. They hadn't talked about these feelings or even kissed, but Ron was ready and willing comfort her when she needed it. It was just a simple squeeze of the hand or a long embrace, but it made both of them more at ease.

At night is when they would really fall into their secret world. Harry had insisted they sleep in a muggle tent with wards to avoid being noticed, which meant cramped quarters for them. Hermione would always take the middle, with the boys on either side. Ron would fall into a restless sleep full of nightmares, but he would wake up to feel Hermione's hands circle around his waist in the darkness, making him feel warm and relaxed.

_I'm overjoyed and over loved and feeling lucky like a little boy._

But they continued with stolen touches and longing looks, both afraid to go further. So Ron sat and stared at her across the Room of Requirement wondering what it would be like to kiss those lips until Hermione's head popped up and she caught him. They both blushed and looked away.

"I…I need help with this spell, I'm not sure how to stand. The diagram is very complex," she said, breaking the silence. She blushed, and Ron popped up and sat next to Hermione on an oversized ottoman that looked as though it could sleep three.

"Oh I see," he said as he motioned for Hermione to stand up. He placed his hands on her waist and he heard a sharp intake of breath as he turned her to face the right way. He loved holding onto her waist these days. He loved holding any part of her. He shifted her shoulders a little.

"Hold on," she said and slipped off her robes over her head to reveal a faded T-shirt that was a bit too short from too many spell-washings while out on the road, and road up to reveal her navel as her arms pulled up, and jeans that looked worn but very comfortable. "That's better. I couldn't see my hands," she said looking a bit nervous. Ron put his hands back on her waist only to feel the strip of warm skin she had uncovered. She shuddered and he swallowed back another lump in his throat.

"Okay, so face this way and bend your arms this way," Ron said with a shaky voice as he bent her forearms in a better dueling position. His thumb grazed one of the many white scars she had going up her arm. He bit back his anger at his inability to help her when the Death Eaters gave her those marks in one of their many confrontations with them. He knew she had three on her arm, two on her chest, and a large one running down her calf. He had memorized every glimpse he'd had of her. He knew that there were three moles on her left shoulder without looking and he knew that she played with her hair when she was tired. He didn't realize his thumb was still running over the scars.

"That one was from Rookwood," Hermione whispered.

"I couldn't find you, and then there you were all huddled up in the woods," Ron said, his voice cracking.

"You know these aren't your fault," Hermione said as she reached her hand up to his face. They quickly sprang apart. Hermione turned very pink and said, "Do you want to practice the spell one more time? You didn't tell Harry did you?" she asked. Ron just shook his head. "Good because he'd never allow us to go through with it," she said hastily.

The spell she was talking about was 'Amplexus', and she had found it in a leather bound text in the Room of Requirement, which happened to take the form of the DA's meeting place.. This spell was used if a wizard wanted to cast a really powerful spell; a person who loved him could join hands and transfer their power for a moment to the caster. Ron and Hermione had been practicing on each other. They knew there was love there, but they knew there was love between all three of them. For Ron and Hermione, it seemed there would always be that line. When Harry needed them, they were ready to grab his hands and give their power to him. When Hermione and Ron talked about the idea, there was no doubt in their minds in their minds that they would do this for Harry. Knowing that they loved each other enough to practice the spell, that was simply a side benefit.

Even when first trying it, it caused a lot of pain and a serious drain of energy. On reading the effects, they found they could also be severely injured. There was still no doubt. They would do this for Harry.

Like a little boy who's hiding under covers and looking to discover any way to play the part inside his darkened cave.

They grabbed hands with their palms directly pressed to each other's and began the chant. This time, Hermione would cast the spell and Ron would transfer power. They practiced with Patronus charms because it was a spell that required a lot of power but no actual objective. Not to mention they could hone a very valuable skill. Hermione raised her wand and Ron gripped her hand tighter, bracing himself. Soon, the entire room was filling with an icy white glow that emanated from her wand. Ron was trying hard to resist letting go even though it felt as if his skin was being sucked off of his body. He looked over at Hermione and saw she was glowing slightly, with a fierce look of determination in her eyes. She yelled the spell and a large otter started paddling around their heads, but then a smaller dog followed slowly after. The dog and otter danced around each other as Hermione released.

Ron fell to his knees. His whole body felt like it was going to explode. He put his head in his hands as an odd tingling sensation started in his right hand and moved throughout his body. His power was coming back. The little ghostly dog swirled around Ron's head yapping happily, and made him feel more at ease. Hermione knelt down in front of him with a look of concern, "Are you okay?" she asked and Ron nodded. "Good, then it's my turn," she said as she straightened her top and stood back up.

"Are you sure, Hermione?" Ron asked, thoroughly worried.

"We have to do this, and do it well. It may turn out to be the only way," she said, looking sad and sincere. Ron took her hand and raised his wand. The chant began again and he cast the charm. Ron felt a surge of power through his whole body. He felt seven feet tall and indestructible. He watched with awe as the light filled the room and the two Patronuses came out. When he ended the spell he heard a small groan and a thud.

"Hermione!" Ron yelled as he rushed over. He scooped her up and laid her on the ottoman, putting her head in his lap, unwilling to let her go.

Well the meaning of life it starts at the nightlight, close your eyes and hope to see mine.

"Hermione, wake up," he whispered as he ran his hands over her face. He gripped a spare bit of parchment to fan her in a last ditch attempt to revive her without casting a spell. Her eyes began to flutter before focusing on him.

"How long was I out?" She asked, as her voice grew stronger with every word.

"Only a few seconds. It gave me quite a scare, though," Ron answered. She laughed softly, and then as if realizing where she was, turned very pink and removed her head from Ron's lap. However, as she sat up she felt dizzy and had to promptly lie back down, managing to avoid Ron this time.

"I must've hit my head pretty hard," she explained at his worried look.

"It's getting late anyway, why don't you get some sleep," he said reluctantly rising from the cushion.

"Probably," she paused, and bit her lip. "Where are you going to sleep?" and Ron felt his face heat up.

"I don't think I'll be able to sleep tonight," he said. Hermione nodded with understanding, and remained on the Ottoman, seemingly settled in for the night, her eyes on Ron.

Ron tried not to meet her eyes, afraid of what his would reveal. Instead, he moved back to the chair to go over some more battle plans. They had gotten so used to sleeping in the same room that it wasn't even difficult for him to sit in the chair and wish the lights dimmed so she could try to sleep. They normally found comfort in sleeping in the same area. But tonight, Ron wanted nothing more than to curl up next to her and hold her until the battle, but again, he exercised restraint, unsure if it would help anything to reveal the depth of his feelings.

Ron realized he fancied Hermione at the beginning of sixth year, but with her past relationships (if you could call them that) and their recent situation, he never thought she would feel for him as more than a friend. After he'd buggered up everything with that Lavender thing and got attacked by canaries, he was absolutely sure he'd never have a chance. He never summoned up the nerve to make any sort of move. He ached with it sometimes, how much he loved her. Ron laughed sardonically to himself at the thought that his emotional teaspoon must be overflowing.

Having difficulty focusing on possible conformations of the coming battle, Ron began to remember everything he had seen that year. The inanimate objects that they'd hunted had glowed green as they were destroyed and the soul bits within them finally killed, There was also the ominous dark cloud that hung over Finland from Dementors as they had tracked down the Cup. His mind flashed disjointedly with curse after curse being thrown at him and his friends. Finally, his meandering thoughts fell on their last quest, that horrible night in the cave before they were to hunt down Nagini. Harry had hoped he would find some answers to the mounting questions of Voledmort's notorious pet, but they got more than they bargained for.

Ron shook himself from the past, and looked at Hermione again. She had fallen asleep, despite any protests that she couldn't. He watched her chest rise and fall; he found it soothing to see her breathe. His thoughts turned to memories of her, and her look of hopeless fear at the Dementors. He thought of her huddled in the woods with her arms all bloody, and Inferi groping at her in the darkness. His mind danced with her in that light blue dress, laughing and dancing at Bill and Fleur's wedding with flowers in her hair. He'd only wished he had the nerve to dance with her that night, instead of watching her from afar.

Well I've seen a thousand things in one place, but I stopped my counting when I saw your face. Erasing memory I feel as though I've never seen a face before…

After about two hours, Hermione stirred and Ron went over to put a conjured blanket on her. He was about to go back to his chair when he heard a small whimper, "No…" Hermione cried. She was shaking and began to sweat. Ron sat next to her and lie on his side. He pulled her in close to him like she had done unconsciously so many nights on their long search.

"Shh," he said as he rubbed her hair and she clung to him tighter. Soon, her labored breathing became calm and she lifted her head to meet his eyes with her own. Her dark brown eyes were glassy and on the verge of tears. Acting only on impulse, he kissed her forehead, hoping she would think it the act of a brother, and not someone desperately in love.

Until I saw your eyes smiling back at me thru my tears. I've been counting all these years.

She moved back into him and nestled her nose in his neck. Her hot breath sent a tingle down his spine. Ignoring his own needs and hoping she didn't notice her effect on him, he clasped his arms behind her back, seeking to comfort her. "Are you better now?" he asked. She nodded.

"Thank you," she whispered. Her eyes were bright, searching his.

"For what?" he answered, confused, hoping she couldn't read what was so plain to see.

"For never letting go," she said moving her face so it was in line with his.

Now suddenly the thousand things I've seen were nothing more than dreams of you and me.

Ron felt his stomach jump, and Ron leaned back for his sanity and just looked at her. He tried to process what she said, how she was looking at him, but his mind kept fighting back with insecurity. He wasn't sure what to do. What she wanted. What he wanted. She sat up and sighed, dejected.

"Is your head okay?" he asked.

"I'll be fine," she answered, almost snapping at him, though he couldn't quite figure out why. She hung her shoulders and went to get up from the seat. Ron grabbed her wrist on impulse.

"I'm scared, Hermione. I've seen so many things to scare the piss out of me this year, but facing this battle, facing life or death has me terrified," he said quickly as Hermione gazed at him eyes wide. "What if I never…what if we never…" he was stuttering now, their face inches apart.

_You and me quietly at a stand still,_

She looked at him anxiously and he took her hand, "I can't lose you. I can't be without you," he croaked out.

Fortunately you will kiss me and I'll kiss you back.

Ron was stuck. She was looking at him as if wanting more and he was still terrified of rejection. Watching from afar as she slept was one thing, but up close was quite another.

Fact of the matter of is that I don't know what the latter is. That I always wanted to kiss you, but I always wanted to run from you…

She bit her lip and looked down at her shoes, about to give up.

"Bloody hell!" Ron said, and before she could open her mouth to admonish his swearing, Ron had grabbed Hermione's face and kissed her nervously, and without much finesse. They could both feel what was behind that awkward kiss. Their first kiss.

She sat there frozen for the longest time, and Ron began to panic, worried he had made the wrong choice. He pulled back from Hermione and forced his eyes open to look at her. Her eyes were wide as if she had just seen a ghost. When she came back to reality to see Ron looking fearfully at her, her expression softened.

Ron panicked and backed away, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that. Can we just forget about it?" Ron said dejectedly standing up and walking over to his chair. He felt a small hand grasp his forearms. He turned around suddenly to find Hermioen gazing at him with tears in her eyes again.

"I'm tired of having to forget, Ron," Hermione said, and Ron just gaped at her, unsure about what she was saying. "I'm tired of forcing myself to forget that those times we nearly died, my thoughts were on you. I don't want to forget those cold nights when you would let me sleep up close to you." Hermione said, fully crying now.

Ron put his hands back on her face and brushed her tears with his thumb as she found her words. "I'm so scared. Ron. Tomorrow is it. It's either the turning point or the end, and it makes me afraid of so many things. Lately, the only thing I can think about is that we would never get the chance," she finished.

Ron was still slightly confused himself, and feeling a bit overwhelmed at what she was saying. He was certain he never wanted to see that pained look in her eyes again. "I'm scared out of my mind, 'Mione, but I promise we'll get through this together." Ron said and chanced another kiss on the forehead. She leaned into him and sighed deeply. Ron felt weak at the sound of that beautiful sigh.

Then, Hermione leaned up and kissed Ron. He met with enthusiasm, surprise, and elation. He could not suppress his happiness as he realized she felt the same way about him. A fire began to spark inside of Ron. He already had a steadfast determination to see their journey though until the end, and now he wanted to see that and the rest with Hermione.

Ron ran his tongue over her lips and she parted them. Ron couldn't help but moan into her mouth, as he tasted her. She moaned back even more enthusiastically and he was sparked into action again. Still kissing her, he lifted her up and her legs wrapped around his waist. She pulled back and laughed a deep and contented laugh at her current situation. Ron marveled at her smile, it came so rare lately.

"You're brilliant," Ron said in a shaky whisper.

"I know," Hermione smiled. They both laughed. Ron carried her back to the ottoman and laid her down. He figured he could kiss her a little better at that angle.

They lie there kissing for a good while, when Hermione's hands found the bottom of Ron's shirt. She reached her hands up under it and moved them over his back. Ron pulled his mouth away and began to breathe heavily. A very important part of him was about to lose control. He moved a stray brown curl from her eyes and looked down at her. She looked happy and more relaxed, at least than she had in the fast few month she looked at her now swollen lips; the blush now on her cheeks drove Ron mad, so he began to kiss her wildly.

He placed a hand under her shirt on her stomach and froze. He was unsure if he should be taking things this far, no matter how much he wanted to. She put her hand over his, bit her lip again, and looked him right in the eye. Then, she moved his hands up farther.

"Oh Merlin Hermione!" Ron whimpered as he began to kiss her neck and let his hands explore. The sighs and moans coming from Hermione were like music to him. For a while, he just let his hands wander over her chest, ribs, and stomach. Her skin felt so smooth and hot. Ron moaned when felt her legs wrap around his waist, their bodies pressing against each other. He moved one hand to her bum just to chance a feel of what was below her waist. Ron felt like he was playing it all on chance, so when Hermione unwrapped her legs and scooted out from under him minutes later, he thought his time was up.

Then, Hermione slowly pulled off her to top to reveal a simple black bra. Ron was gobsmacked. He had no idea what to do or say now.

_Because I always wanted to miss you,_

She sat there waiting for him to do something, and then blushed; her eyes cast down moved her hands to cover herself when he simply stared. Ron realized what she was doing and grabbed her hands. He ran his thumbs over her wrists as he tried to find his words.

"You don't ever have to hide, you're amazing," he said and her face brightened slightly. "I just wanted to make sure that…well…that you're sure," he looked up at her as she bit her lip…yet again. He pulled her over so that she was sitting on his lap, which only increased his discomfort given the strength of his reaction to the site of her. "If we do much more, I don't think I can stop. And I just don't' want to hurt you that's all," he explained.

Hermione left a trail of kisses along his jaw line and moved to his neck. "I'm sure, Ron. I know this is a terrible reason, but we could die tomorrow," Hermione said and pulled Ron's shirt over his head. He pulled her more fully into his lap and groaned at the feeling of skin on skin.

And that I've always wanted to come for you.

Ron threaded his fingers in the mess of busy brown hair at the back of her neck. "Is the fact that I love you a better reason?" he asked, looking more serious he had ever looked.

"Much better," she grinned and moved her hips into his.

_So... how do you do?_

Later, as the sun had begun to peek in through a before unnoticed window in the Room of Requirement, Ron and Hermione laid in companionable silence tangled in only a knitted blanket. Just as Ron was about to get up and put on his clothes to prepare for the upcoming confrontation, there was a crash at the door. Luna Lovegood and a hooded man whose face was hidden blundered into the room.

"Bloody hell!" Ron yelled, his wand in one hand, while his body moved to better cover Hermione, who had the good sense to wrap most of the blanket around her.

Luna seemed unphased by two naked Gryffindors in the Room of Requirement, "I need your help," Luna said as she took the tall stranger's hand. He lowered his hood and Hermione gasped. Ron leapt off of the cushion, completely forgetting he was starkers.


	4. You Get Me High

Chapter 3: You get me high

After Neville and Cho left, leaving everyone, especially Ron, gobsmacked, Harry looked around the room for Ginny. She wasn't there. He felt deflated as he realized she must have slipped out during all of the commotion. He plopped down on a cushion next to Ron and Hermione and tried to focus on their discussions of the plan of attack as much as he could. His mind wandered to Ginny. It always wandered to her.

He didn't blame her for disappearing like that. He did the same thing to her; only he left for a year with only an unopened letter to hold on to. She had no idea where he was going or what he was doing. He turned his back on her to keep her safe, and now he felt lost and abandoned.

"I'm going for a walk," Harry said to no one in particular and walked out.

Harry started walking through the halls that always felt like home to him. He wandered through drafty corridors to take in the odd tapestries and slumbering wizards in various paintings. A ray of dusty light passed through a window and illuminated a wall, one Harry recognized as once having been painted in blood. _Her skeleton will lie in the chamber forever. _Harry felt like his lungs were made of lead. Even then, at 12 years old, Harry couldn't stand the thought of her hurt. Now, he had to face evil, and possibly die. There she would be, fighting for him, for herself, and for the rest of the world in the battle of their lives. She couldn't, she wouldn't, be protected anymore. Harry sat down in the dim glow from a nearby torch and gazed at the wall.

_Well I don't know just what I'm here for, I want more than words can describe. _

He had lost so much in his lifetime. Little pieces of his heart lay somewhere with his parents, Sirius, and Dumbledore; but Ginevra Weasley always held the biggest one. Throughout his life he's faced terrible things, from relatives who treated him like gum on their shoes to Inferi clawing at his neck in that awful cave. Through it all, he's made it, with only a few physical scars, but something was missing. When he grabbed her and kissed her with everything he had that day in the Common Room, then, and for a few glorious months after, things seemed lighter and he felt free.

I've been deprived, can you believe it?  
My whole world, well it's falling apart  
well it falls, still it falls, well it falls apart around me.

His mind was everywhere and nowhere all at the same time. He had done it, done what Dumbledore wanted, and now there was only one piece left of the puzzle, the biggest piece. He ran his hands through his hair and got up to walk again, following the familiar stairs up to the Astronomy Tower just to clear his head. As he neared the top, he heard grunting and moaning coupled with the occasional loud crash.

Harry walked in quietly with his wand out, only to see Ginny looking completely glorious. She didn't see him, so he slipped in to watch her more. She was practicing defensive nonverbal spells on large menacing blast-ended skrewts that she must have Transfigured from the telescope mounts that normally lined the windows of the classroom.

She stood tall, though she was petite, and repelled each creature as her arms moved powerfully and her hair flashed around her head. When she stopped to breathe, Harry noticed she had on a Weird Sister's tee shirt and some old jeans, worn with holes, but artistically ripped. Harry had to seriously resist rushing over to touch her, hold her, and kiss her.

And you pick me back up  
oh, said you pick me back up  
oh, you're gonna pick me back up  
and you get me high.

Ginny lifted the bottom edge of her shirt to wipe the sweat form her face, revealing a pale white stomach. Harry breathed just a little too loud and she looked up. Her dark eyes met his, and Harry noticed they were red and bloodshot. Of course he was the one to make her cry, he thought with shame.

"How long have you been standing there?" she asked, folding her arms in front of her chest like she was cold.

"Long enough to see how brilliant you are. You're amazing," Harry said never taking his eyes off of her.

"You could have seen that from a mile away," Ginny said smirking. Harry had almost forgotten that is was her humor that was one of the reasons he loved her so. "This is the first time we've talked since Bill and Fleur's wedding. It's been a year," Ginny said looking at her feet.

"Ginny I…" Harry started as he went to go touch her face, but she jumped back quickly.

"Do you want to learn this new spell I made up? There's still a few kinks, but I think it's working well," Ginny asked. Harry was hurt that she moved away from him so easily, but obliged her anyway. "It works best when doing it nonverbally. I came up with it while I was degnoming this spring. Those little buggers kept ganging up on me, thinking if they all went at me at once, I couldn't get them out of the garden. I was trying to make a really bright light to blind them that way it would be easier to dizzy them and throw them out. Lumos wasn't strong enough, so I tinkered around with some words and one made this bright light. The poor gnomes that came running after me ran into this wall of light and bounced clear over the hedge, but it was rather neat," Ginny laughed nervously, either at the speed at which she had just spoken or her current situation.

Ginny got that fierce fiery look in her eye, focused her wand on another advancing skrewt. Harry was so distracted by Ginny's mouth moving as she spoke, that he hadn't even noticed those horrible creatures still wandering about the large classroom. She caused a bright white light to radiate out of the tip of her wand, and the skrewt went flying and limply hit the wall, no longer moving. "I've been practicing it ever since as a defensive spell. Just think Fulgor Lumens and it should work," she finished looking at him expectantly.

Harry raised his wand and thought of her words. He thought of her lips moving to say them, and his mind echoed it. A bright light came out of his wand and radiated through the whole room, the strongest beam propelling the remaining skrewt out of the window. Harry felt a tingle rush through his entire body as he cast the spell. He felt like he could fly without a broom. When he lowered his wand, the room dimmed and he saw Ginny looking at him wide eyed. "Is everything okay?" Harry asked at Ginny's shocked expression.

"There were beams of light coming from your fingers, lips, and your eyes…it was amazing. Everything was glowing white," Ginny said in little more than a whisper.

"You're brilliant. I felt so powerful. This is going to do well tomorrow," Harry finished, saying the last part a little more quietly.

"I know. When I was perfecting it, I was…thinking of you," Ginny said.

"I'm always thinking of you," Harry said in a strained voice as he tried to meet her eyes.

"Is that why you cast me aside so quickly?" she asked, her voice hard, tears beginning to form in her eyes. She locked her jaw and tried to hide her hurt.

"How could you say that, Gin? You've seen what Voldemort does to the people I care about. If he knew about you, he'd hurt you," Harry explained, practically shouting now.

"You don't think Draco and Snape would have already told him, or anyone else in the school for that matter? I understand why you did what you did, but you took off with no word or no note as to where you were. I waited for a year wondering day and night if you were even alive! I would sit in my window and watch for Hedwig to fly over the house, but she never came. All I had was this damn letter to give me any sort of peace!" Ginny yelled as she tore the envelope from her pocket and threw it at Harry's feet.

Harry picked up the small, worn letter and ran his hand over the slightly frayed edges. He could see her small, soft hands following the corners over and over again, waiting for him. He felt heaviness in his chest again. He looked up to see her crying at the window.

Cause I'm drinking all of the tears you cry.

Harry walked over to where she was seated and pulled her into his arms. He stroked her smooth red hair and kept a firm hold on her waist. It felt so good to be able to feel her again, even if he was the cause of her crying.

"I'm sorry, Gin. I don't know what I'm doing. I was scared. I am scared. I just needed to know you would be safe, because the thought of you kept me going on those dark cold days this year," Harry said, feeling much like Ginny was looking.

"If you care about me the way you claim to, why do I feel like a forgotten part of your past? And now tomorrow you face that evil and I never got a chance. I always thought I'd fight this fight beside you. I…"

"Ginny!" Harry interrupted. "This is my fight. I have to face this. I can't lose you to my battle. I can't be without you anymore either. I'm not certain about anything that's going to happen tomorrow, I'm numb to the fear. I'm sure about how I feel about you, though, and I'm afraid I'll never get a chance to do anything about it, to show you…. To make it up to you."

And I don't wish to know my ending  
I just say   
I wanna know when I begun  
I wanna know when I begun  
I wanna know where it started from  
where it all had started from

Harry's mind was racing. He couldn't believe the situation he was in. He was saying things he's never said to anyone before, but he decided to let his heart do the talking for a little while. So he grabbed Ginny's hand and began to pull her into the corridor and down the stairs. He needed to show her what she really meant. Harry couldn't stand the thought of her feeling like she wasn't cared for. Ginny just followed silently until they reached a room on the floor below.

"Where are we?" Ginny asked as they walked into the dimly lit room. All that stood in the room was a lone mirror.

"This is the Mirror of Erised. I found it in my first year. It was hidden for a really long time, but I found it last fall. We had to come back here to look for a wand of Rowena Ravenclaw's" but Harry paused here. Ginny had the most defeated and hurt look on her face.

"You were here, and you didn't even want to see me? Ron and Hermione were here and I couldn't even know if you guys were okay? How could you just forget about me? I know you've had so much to do, so much to focus on, but all I wanted to know was if you were okay. That would have been enough for me." When Ginny finished speaking, her voice was barely above a whisper. Harry sank, forgetting the momentum of his actions and falling into a pity. He held his resolve, he had to tell her, and he would explain the rest later.

"Dumbledore told me that it shows your hearts deepest desires," Harry smirked, trying to hide the deep sigh at looking at her stung expression. He knew she would understand if he could just get out his words. "He always said he saw a new pair of socks in the mirror," Harry hung his head at the memory. He knew what he was fighting for; he just needed to show Ginny.

Cause I feel like I am spinning  
I feel like I'm spinning  
well I feel just like I'm spinning  
I'm spinning around

"What did you see?" Ginny asked, breaking Harry out of his reverie.

"Well, when I first looked into it, I saw my parents standing beside me. Ron saw himself as Quidditch Captain, Head Boy, and winner of the House Cup. ," Harry quipped and Ginny laughed heartily. "Then we came back last year to get Ravenclaw's wand…"

"Well, I came down here hoping the mirror may be able to show me where the wand was. It didn't, it showed me Tom Riddle Junior's gravestone. I thought that inner most desire was pretty obvious," Harry said sardonically. Ginny was listening intently now, eyeing the mirror like the wanted to rip apart the sheet covering it.

"Well, today, when we got here, Hermione and I went for a walk. To clear our heads, and try to get some calm before the storm. I took her in here and told her to have a look. She got a completely stiff look on her face and made to walk out of the room," he finished.

"I know what she saw," Ginny said with fiendish glee.

"So do I," Harry answered.

"She told you!" she exclaimed in shock.

"No, but she showed me a spell that lets you show others what you see. I think it was her way of telling me before she walked out," he said shrugging.

Harry took a deep breath and sat in front of the mirror, motioning for Ginny to sit next to him. He had never felt so young, so unsure. He was a scared first-year all over again.

"Gin, I'm going to show you what I saw for myself yesterday," he said, and she nodded solemnly. He pulled away the sheet and cast the spell.

Harry sat on the floor and ran his hand through his hair, he heard Ginny gasp and cover her mouth at the sight in the mirror. It was Harry, looking older and beaming proudly. On one arm was a very pregnant Ginny kissing his cheek, and on the other a small red haired boy with wire glasses, green eyes, and unruly hair. Ginny looked at him speechless.

"You see, all I've ever wanted is a normal life. First, I saw my parents and now I see you and me, happy. With the exception of last year, this has always been my desire. Just because I may never have the chance doesn't mean I don't still want it. So please, don't ever think you have any less of me than this. You're so much to me," Harry finished with his throat tightening and tears beginning to form. 

Ginny moved closer to him and grabbed his hands. She looked ready to say something but unable to. Her eyes were shining, and she just whispered "Harry…"

Harry grabbed her shoulders and pressed his lips softly to hers for the first time in over a year. It felt to him like they had never stopped kissing. He allowed the kiss to linger as she snaked her arms around his neck and they kneeled on the cold wood floor. He pulled her as close to him as possible and held her there as he ran his tongue over her lips. He never wanted to leave this room, or her, again.

I said I feel like I am spinning all around the summer,  
and the winter comes and another storm it falls, well it falls; still it falls apart around me.

After a few moments, Harry chanced to move into uncharted territory. He unthreaded his hands from her mess of hair and moved slowly to her hips. He slid his hands up the back of her shirt and felt the smooth skin that he'd never touched before. He let out an involuntary moan that caused her to tighten her grip on him. Harry brought his long calloused hands up her sides and brushed them over her small breasts. Harry was frozen there, having had no experience beyond kissing, he was not sure what to do. He ran is thumb over the front of Ginny's lacy bra and she sighed. He let out a sigh of relief and soldiered on. He enjoyed taking his time as he ran his fingers over her collarbone and under different places of her bra. He wanted to drown in the sounds she was making. This was escapism at its finest.

Oh my, my, my,

Said you pick me back up, oh, said you pick me back up  
oh, you're gonna pick me back up, and you get me high.

Harry moved his hands to her back and toyed with the waist of her jeans before winning the argument with himself and simply slipping his fingers in to feel the band of her knickers. Ginny sat back and Harry panicked.

"Gin, I'm sorry. I just got a little carried away. We can…" he started, but Ginny put her hand over his mouth.

"Trust me, I liked it. It's just that this floor is killing my knees," she smiled as she laid her legs out in front of them. There were indeed holes in the knees and her skin was turning red. Harry put his hands over her kneecaps and began to rub them. She smiled and closed her eyes.

"Mmmm how about we go back up to the Astronomy Tower. I bet there will be something more comfortable after we get up there," Ginny said slyly as she got up and began to walk out.

"Ginny…" Harry was at a loss for words. "What about your parents? Aren't you worried they could walk in or come looking for you?" He asked, trying to stay calm.

"What about yours, Harry?" she said, eyes blazing. Harry was dumbstruck and confused. "Doesn't it make you feel a little better that at least they had each other when the war was going on? They still got married, still had you, and I bet they made love in spite of everything raging on around them," she said, never taking that hard look from his increasingly shocked green eyes. "Besides, I'm pretty sure my parents are a little distracted, what with the war right now," she explained.

Harry needed a second to register everything she had just said. She felt the exact same way he did. And with her confession, he needed her more than ever. He never wanted to have to be without her, and spend cold nights desperately longing for her, worrying that she hated him. Not now, not in these dark times.

"Are you sure?" Harry asked as she pulled him along back up the stairs.

"As sure as I am that this might be our only chance," she said looking very misty-eyed.

"Hey…" Harry whispered and pulled her down a few steps to where he was. She looked so lovely standing in the fading evening light through a stained glass window. The colors were bouncing off her bright red hair and reflecting in the small tears falling from her eyes. Harry put his hands on both sides of her face, "We both have a reason to fight and a reason to die. But don't forget that we have reasons to live too. You're the strongest witch I know, no matter what happens, I know you'll make it," Harry said as he kissed the tip of her nose.

"I know I will too. I don't want to just 'make it' though. I want what I saw in that Mirror," she finished in a whisper. He proceeded to kiss every inch of her face tenderly, savoring what was turning into the best and worst day of his life.

Say, I'm drinking all of the tears you cry, breathing every breath that you sigh.

Upon walking in, Ginny conjured some very fluffy cushions that began to cover most of the floor. Ginny pulled off her top, and Harry's jaw dropped at the white lace she had covering her pale, freckled chest. He was completely entranced.

"Well, I'm not going to be the only one freezing my arse off!" Ginny said and yanked at Harry's black collared shirt. He pulled it off with ease and immediately began kissing her again. He let his fingers run over the soft skin of her shoulders and took the time to memorize how his skin felt against hers. She began kissing his neck and toying with the small patch of hair reaching below his navel. Harry's hips gave an involuntary lurch toward her and he grunted at her touch. Ginny seemed to purr at this and take it as encouragement to go further.

Harry gave her one last questioning look, and then they spent the rest of the night exploring each other's bodies and escaping from reality. He could not sleep that night for a multitude of reasons, his painful scar being the most pertinent. But the pain felt different somehow. It was dull, fogged over by this euphoric feeling. Ginny's flowery scent flowed in and out of his nostrils and she slept silently next to him. Her gentle features were marred and her face contorted with resolve. This resolve echoed in Harry's chest as well. The purring that came each time Ginny was near him now roared with determination. Harry was going to live. He was going to live for Ginny Weasley, and all that she represented. The pain in his head jolted, almost challenging his new found burst of determination. Voldemort was coming, and wanted Harry to know about it.

I am, shit; I'm breathing all of the tears that you cry  
that you cry  
all the tears that you cry  
every breath that you sigh

They decided, reluctantly, after darkness gave way to sunrise that they could no longer push away reality, that they should go see Hermione and Ron, and get ready for the battle to come. They threw their clothes back on and tried best to make their appearance not seem so disheveled. They rushed over to the Room of Requirement, hoping that Ron and Hermione would be there. As they approached the room, they heard Ron shouting. Harry and Ginny pulled out their wands and proceeded forwards, ready to defend those they loved.


	5. Sleeping to Dream

Chapter 4: Sleeping to Dream

_I'm dreaming of sleeping next to you  
I'm feeling like a lost little boy in a brand new town_

George Weasley wandered in the rain for what seemed like an eternity, as his automatic feet carried him back to his lonely flat. He was numb. Samantha was gone, and with that he had lost all hope of feeling alive during this dismal time. He might as well have been sleeping, because his mind had gone on autopilot the moment he placed that coin on her dresser. He was determined to remain focused on the fight that loomed ahead, but his existence now felt like nothing more than a half-life. After that, (if there was an after), he felt as if he might simply drift into a world of daydreams – a world of mindless walks through seemingly empty streets -- neither noticing nor caring about anyone ever again.

George plodded back into the kitchen of his lonely flat above the shop, feeling completely worthless. His entire family was facing injury or death, and the one time he opened his heart to someone, it was rejected.

He didn't blame her though. While George realized he was devastatingly handsome. He was still a wizard, and she was still a muggle. However, George had thought she would understand. Samantha, of all people, knew how to think rationally. She even prided herself on it. In thinking this, George got a sinking feeling deep within his soul. If he thought about things truthfully, She _was_ being rational. She must have honestly thought he was trying to ditch her with an outrageous story.

Indeed, that might have been a better idea. She hadn't turned away because he was a wizard, because she would never believe anything like that. She had turned away because she thought he was being callous. George didn't se how he could have felt any lower.

Only one thought had kept him from hiding in his room and giving up: He was still fighting today, fighting for her and all that she had stood for, even if he did have to oblivate her after the battle.

George threw a glass at the wall, but it never reached its target.

Angelina was standing in a pink silk robe that barely covered her rear with a glass in one hand and an angry look on her face. "Obviously it didn't go well with your before-the-war shag," she said. George frowned slightly and shook his head.

"I reckon I made a bad move."

"I don't believe it for a second! A Weasley twin not being completely smooth! All your brother had to do was shout across the room one day and I was his forever!" Angelina exclaimed, a smirk on her face.

"I think I mucked it up right around the time I told this beautiful muggle girl that I was a wizard," George said sardonically.

Angelina stood silently for a second. George waited in anticipation of an admonishment. He expected her to tell him what a stupid move he had made; yet Angelina didn't utter a word. Instead she walked over and seated herself next to him at the table. Placing two fingers under his chin, she turned his face toward hers. George was struck by the look in her eyes, that same sharp, discerning look that Sam had often sported. It was no wonder why Fred was completely mad over her.

"You've tried, George. You've given it a shot, so now you have nothing to regret. You can fight with a fresh face, knowing you lived." Although Angelina's eyes shined softly, her voice was strong and resolute. "Who knows, she may even come around. Once she's been with a Weasley, she'll want to come back," Angelina finished with a very naughty look on her face.

"I gave her that option. I turned a galleon into a portkey. I told her to come to me before sunrise if she changes her mind. But, she's only got a few minutes before we have to go back to Hogwarts," said George with a frown.

"She…" Angelina started, but never finished her sentence. Instead, she shrieked and cast a nonverbal stunner over George's shoulder. As the initial shock wore off, George managed to turn around. A Death Eater lay limp on the kitchen floor. His black robes were crumpled about him while his frightful mask lay empty near his head.

"Incarcerous!" yelled George to assure that the Death Eater couldn't harm them.

Angelina shouted for Fred, who rushed down the stairs, pulling a shirt over his head. He immediately jumped as he reached the landing into the kitchen.

Countless questions were racing through everyone's head. How did he get past the wards? How did he just appear here? Were there more?

_I'm counting my sheep and  
each one that passes is another dream to ashes and they all fall down._

Samantha didn't realize she had cried herself to sleep on her living room couch until her large white husky, Sebastian, began to bark at something outside. It was 5:00 am. He always barked at the squirrels outside in the neighbor's yard, but never when it was still dark. She stood up, swayed a bit from the awkward position she in which she had been sleeping, and walked onto her balcony. She wrapped her arms in front of her to ward off the odd July chill before she opened her door. Her heart began to race as she noticed the sun was almost up, and her mind kept up the pace.

"How could I have been so irrational? I need to get to George," she said out loud, more to herself than Sebastian.

She walked over to her nightstand to pick up the coin George had given her, but was interrupted by the sound of glass breaking outside. She rushed to a window to make sure that no one was breaking into her car. She gasped at the sight of several men, dresses in dark hoods, which seemed to be breaking into her neighbors' houses. As the men entered each home, flames would shoot out of every door and window. She could hear people screaming from every direction. As she turned her gaze to the side, Samantha saw that people were lying dead or injured in the street.

Samantha ran to her phone to call for help, but the line was dead. The only sound she could hear was a dark, ominous voice ringing out from behind her.

"There's no use for that silly little device now, muggle bitch! The Dark Lord has risen again. Soon insects like you will be reduced to nothing," she cried as her words transformed into maniacal laughter.

Through her fear something struck Samantha as odd. As her eyes darted back and forth trying to find a way to escape this menacing woman. She began to sort through her thoughts for a familiar phrase.

'Muggle' was a strange word, but one she had heard somewhere before. George had said it to her before he left! The realization hit Sam full force. This all had to be tied to the things that George had tried to explain the day before – why he had told her that they would even be fighting to save her world.

Samantha was immediately filled with admiration for her smarmy little bloke. But there was no time for such thoughts. She quickly went back to her plan of escape.

She could see the coin shining on her nightstand next to a hooded man. She was trying to devise a way to grab it when Sebastian came into the room. As the foreboding wizard raised his wand, Sebastian gnashed his teeth and began to gnaw at the man's arm. Samantha saw this as her chance to grab the coin, but the man flicked his wand, sending a beam of red light directly at Sebastian. Causing the wizard to fall back against the nightstand. Sebastian yelped as he slammed against the wall as the Death Eater reached around to find his balance. As his hand hit the coin, he suddenly disappeared.

Samantha had now lost all hope of escape. She could hear more of the black robed people coming up the stairs. She knew it was the end, but she wouldn't go down without attitude. She knew George wouldn't stand for that. Facing death, Samantha wanted her last thoughts to be of him.

A sinister looking woman burst through the door… It was time for Sam to go out with a bang.

"Well you're an ugly little minion," Samantha said with a smirk.

"Incarcerous!" cried the woman, as Samantha found herself tied fast to her bedpost. "How dare you speak to me like that you arrogant little shit? Have you no idea what's happening right now? My Lord is coming to power and your people will be destroyed," the dark woman spat.

"Perhaps," Sam spoke in a mocking tone, as if considering what the woman had said as some sort of riddle, and not a death threat. "But I have it on good authority that there is a good side, a light side mustering to battle your people at sunrise," Sam said as she tightened her jaw. The woman looked out the window.

"It's sunrise now," she sneered, her crooked smile revealing a rancid set of teeth. The woman raised her wand high, and Samantha lost hope. George wouldn't even know she was in trouble. He would be fighting right now, and she wouldn't even have the chance to say goodbye. She was going to die as a result of something she thought she didn't believe in.

"Crucio!" the witch screeched, and Samantha immediately felt like there were a million tiny knives cutting through every inch of her body.

At an agonizingly slow pace, the room went black.

_As I lay me down tonight,  
I close my eyes and what a beautiful sight.  
I'm sleeping to dream about you  
I'm so tired of having to live without you  
But I don't mind  
I'm sleeping to dream about you and I'm so tired_

George leapt up suddenly. He saw something in the unfamiliar Death Eater's hand that made him weak and nauseous. The Death Eater was holding Sam's coin. He fell to his knees shaking uncontrollably.

"That's her portkey wasn't it?" asked Angelia. All George could do was nod.

"What's going on?" yelled Fred. His hair was standing on end, his wand was drawn, and his eyes had a wild look in them. He gazed rapidly from Angelina to George, waiting for someone to explain what had just happened. Angelina quickly explained the situation as she wrote a message to The Order informing them that Deatheaters were attacking muggle villages. She asked for immediate help from anyone able to come to his or her defense.

Without another word, George Disapparated. He had to -- he _needed_ to -- help her. He arrived in the alley behind her apartment, as was his custom. Fred and Angelina quickly followed. They were shocked at what they saw. The world was apocalyptic in this quiet village. Bodies littered the street; fires raged, and screaming could be heard over the sound of exploding homes.

"We can't go out there until we get some help," Fred shouted over the noise, pulling George back.

"I can see them in her house!" cried George, struggling against Fred. Angelina had wrapped her arms around him from the front so he couldn't break free.

"Just wait a few more seconds for the Order to show up," Angelina pleaded. A sudden 'pop' announced the arrival of Tonks and Lupin.

"What's going…Oh Fuck!" said Tonks as her eyes traveled over the main street of Ottery St. Catchpole.

"We could only round up a few people because, in forty-five minutes, Harry is going to open his mind to You Know Who. Everyone else is at their wit's end trying to get prepared." Remus looked back at the destruction through the gray mist that marked the time just before dawn. "If this is any indicator, I don't think we'll ever be prepared."

Moments later, Kingsley, Moody, Dean, Seamus, Neville, and Cho joined them in the alley. They all seemed shocked and dumbfounded at the carnage playing out before them. When Charlie Apparated by their side, Kingsley began to speak.

"We're going to need to split up, and each take a section of the village. I need physical strength to take on the hoard in the street. We'll meet them head on with as much force as we can muster. That should be Angelina, Charlie, and Seamus," he said quickly. Try as he might, Fred couldn't suppress a grunt of disapproval.

"Oh don't worry, baby," said Angelina. I'm strong enough. I'm professional quidditch player, after all," she continued while moving over toward Kingsley. "You're clever enough to figure that out!'

"And rich. Don't forget rich," Fred said as he kissed her on the cheek.

"Did ya hear that? I'm strong," Seamus said, smiling at Dean.

"I could have told you that," Dean answered with a gleam in his eye. Before parting, they enjoyed a short and fiery kiss.

"Be careful," Seamus said with determination

"All right then," Moody ordered, attempting to change the subject. "We're going to need to flush these bastards out into the street for a real fight. We have to work while there is still some darkness. Fred and George, do you guys have an arsenal from the shop?"

"I'm glad you asked," Fred said as he enlarged a small box he held in his hand. "It's our emergency pack. I always take it with me," he explained. "We have Peruvian Darkness powder, two shield hats, a couple of pairs of shield gloves, some whizbangs, and these new lovelies that act as grenades; only instead of exploding, they will confuse our enemies. There are enough of these for everyone," said Fred with a smile of self-satisfaction.

"We call 'em Conundrum Poppers," said George, although he wasn't really paying attention. He was completely focused on Samantha's broken red door. He wanted to do nothing but to rush to her defense. He had to know that she was okay.

Moody sat momentarily, considering the objects and people before him. "Okay you lot, take one of them little confusion buggers. Fred, start on this side of the street and take the darkness powder. George, you can start at that house you can't stop staring at, and take the other darkness powder with you. We need to get these madmen out of the shelter of the houses," Moody finished. Fred and George nodded and grabbed the powder.

Moody continued, "I'll take the Cul de Sac at the end of the street. Now, I'm also going to need these whatever-you-call-'ems that bang really loud.

"I've been in contact with The Ministry, and they say these raids are happening all over The English Countryside. They are sending an army of Aurors and other skilled fighters to rectify the situation here. We all know there are more important matters to deal with back at Hogwarts," Kingsley said, with his voice as low as if he were telling a secret. "When the Aurors get here, I'm gonna set off some sparks so we can tell when to Apparate back to Hogsmeade. Should one of us be missing at that time, I'll take care of it. You guys need to hurry back. The castle needs all the protection it can get."

Everyone nodded with understanding except Neville and Cho, who looked confused at the fact that no one had mentioned their roles in this impromptu battle. Neville sheepishly raised his hand.

"Oh, Right! Longbottom and Chang. You guys get these," Moody shouted over crashes and screams that filled the air. He handed the shield gear to them. "Miss Chang, I understand you are an apprentice at St. Mungo's. Do you have a working knowledge of some basic healing and mending spells?" Cho nodded confidently. "Good! I want you and Longbottom to help the injured. Patch them up so they can stay alive. Then make portkeys to get these people back to St. Mungo's or Hogwart's. You can start going into houses with George," Moody finished, quieting as if he needed to hear the direction he was going in to next.

Cho and Neville both nodded, and soon everyone was off in their own direction. George looked back at his brother and followed Fred's eyes to Angelina, who had just splayed a Deatheater in the alley with lightning reflexes. She glanced back at Fred, with a look reminiscent of every strong woman he had ever known.

"You'd better marry me after this is over, Weasley!" she yelled as she ran toward the fight.

"Just fucking try to stop me!" Fred yelled back.

George gathered his resolve, and trudged off to find Samantha.

_I found myself in the riches your eyes, your lips, your hair  
Well you were everywhere._


	6. Bella Luna

**AN:/ Okay guys, here's the chapter that, to me will make or break my story. This is one of my favorite songs too. Until now, I haven't really tread beyond the realms of canon, with the exception of a little hinted slash. But I am really nervous about this chapter. This character is hard to write. I'm taking a lot of liberties here. It may not sit easy with some people. Please let me know what you honestly think, but no flames. I welcome negative but constructive criticism, but I don't welcome unjustified insults. If I've made you mad, tell me why in a calm and rational manner so I may defend myself… Deep breath…here goes…**

Chapter 5: Bella Luna

Draco Malfoy sat alone, pondering the moon for what seemed to be the billionth time that evening. He had never been one to do frivolous things such as this, but tonight it felt as if he had no choice. The moon appeared to be staring back at him, mocking him cruelly. Despite the fact that it was held perpetual in orbit by the gravitational pull of Earth, Draco felt that even the moon had more freedom than he ever would. If it weren't so uncouth, he would have spit at the moon, as he had during his childhood.

At that time, Draco had hated the moon. In fact he was furious that so many poems and love ballads had been written about a piece of rock a billion miles away. As far as Draco was concerned, the moon was for dreamers.

Draco Malfoy was no dreamer. He tried to live his life logically, with an eye to practicality. He knew that it was logical to desire wealth, for that is what would bring you happiness. It made perfect sense to follow your father's prejudice, and harbor the same kinds of hatred. That had defined his life. However, Draco had been surprised to learn that there was a fine line between loathing and bloodlust. Yet he had discovered line first hand.

It had all seemed so logical. Mudbloods were the scum of the Wizarding World, or so he had been told. Blood Traitors were just as bad, and someone had to do something about them. However, when Draco did the practical thing by joining with Lord Voldemort, an uninvited thought flickered in the back of his mind: "Surely no one deserves to die."

He had quickly forced those thoughts out of his head and became a Deatheater. He remained true and proud as the Dark Mark was tattooed painfully onto his smooth pale skin. He stood loyal as he began to learn the darkest of spells. He was even steadfast when the Death Eaters began burning muggle houses.

It was only when his task was set him that the little voice returned. Only then did he begin to find himself questioning his core beliefs and asking when morality had become an issue of conscience?" Only then, during his sixth year at Hogwarts, would such thoughts begin to enter his mind.

He stopped wondering the night he was supposed to kill Albus Dumbledore and, much to his surprise, Draco found that he couldn't do it. Confronted by the love and forgiveness offered by his Headmaster, Draco sealed his fate by lowering his wand.

He should not have been surprised. After all, he had considered running before attempting to complete his task. He had even cried in fear of what he had gotten into. But none of his emotions prepared him for Dumbledore's generosity upon the Lightning Struck Tower.

Neither had he been prepared for the punishment he received when he returned to his master having failed to fulfill his assignment. Indeed, Draco paid dearly for listening to that little voice.

As payment for his failure, Bellatrix Lestrange had killed Draco's father before his very eyes. Then he had been tortured at the Dark Lord's command, though Voldemort never even bothered to show his face. Draco's Dark Mark had been singed off of his arm with a hot iron without benefit of healing spells to ease his pain. He was mocked as tears freely fell from his eyes. Finally, he had been locked up in a cell without food, light, or water. His only companionship had come on the rare occasion when one of Voldemort's minions would arrive to administer the agony of the Cruciatus Curse.

At last, so bruised and broken he could barely breathe; his fellow Death Eaters dropped him onto the muddy ground of a dark forest. Unable to move, Draco had drifted off to what he could only hope would death, he looked up at the moon and to find it mocking him with its shimmering brightness.

_Mystery the moon,  
a hole in the sky  
a supernatural nightlight  
so full but often right._

"Ennervate"

Draco heard the whisper before his eyes were forced open by the spell. He could not suppress the look of shock that passed across his face, for Luna Lovegood was the last person he could have expected to see standing over him. Worse, her orb-like eyes were filled with…concern.

"Can you move?" she asked.

"Just let me die," he replied. With a wordless flick of her wand, Draco found himself levitating on an invisible stretcher, moving upward toward the summit of a grassy hill.

"What the hell are you doing here, Lovegood?" he spat, even though his weakness diminished the razor edge he usually had in his voice.

"My father sent me to our summer cottage to hunt wrackspurts," she answered. "I think he's just trying to keep me safe, though. He wrote a really scathing expose on the Rotfang Conspiracy and has been getting hassled. I guess that's why he put up wards and the Fidelus Charm."

"You really are loony," Draco chuckled, amused more by her naiveté than anything else.

She turned her giant eyes on him in a way that seemed to penetrate his soul. With a wink, she asked, "Is that what they say?"

_A pair of eyes a closin' one.  
A chosen child of golden sun.  
A marble dog that chases cars,  
to farthest reaches of the beach and far beyond into the swimming sea of stars._

Her appearance made Luna seem as whimsical as the moon, but for some reason Draco could not draw his eyes away from her. The way her hair (dishwater to most, silver to him) fell the length of her back -- how she walked with as much confidence as he would if he could move -- even the dreamy tone of her voice – left him entranced. He assumed delirium had taken control over his mind.

Taking an interest in her was most assuredly not logical.

As Draco first began to heal,, he found himself struggling to find a way to escape. However, he soon realized he would be murdered if he were to be seen by any of Voldemort's followers. For that matter, he might not fare much better if he were found by anyone belonging to the Order of the Phoenix. His problems were further compounded by the fact that he still couldn't move very well. So, he settled back on the bed Luna had provided for him, and waited for her to return from wherever she had gone.

He had begun to process what had happened to him, and he was terrified. He had been beaten, bruised, burned, and left for dead. It was a wonder that he had survived. In fact, without the timely arrival of Luna Lovegood, Draco knew he could not have lasted much longer.

He glanced around the Lovegoods' small paneled room with a sick and stricken look on his face. His heart began to race as he looked out the window for any movement – or even signs of shadow lurking among the trees. His head was pounding. His thoughts were torn between the extremes of trying a daring escape or simply hiding beneath the bed. At last his thoughts strayed to the Fidelus Charm Luna said had been placed upon the cabin by her father. Draco silently hoped it was good.

His heart slowed considerably when Luna returned, carrying a tray filled with water, scones and tea. He also noticed a bowl filled with puss-yellow goo which he recognized as Murtlap Sap. Normally, Draco would raise a stink at the thought of dining with a blood-traitor, but on this occasion he was happy to be around anyone who didn't want him dead.

Before taking a seat, Luna began to cast various healing spells that caused him immense relief. She then remained completely silent for the ten minutes it took to dress Draco's wounds. The only sounds in the cabin were the choked gasps he would utter whenever she would hit a particularly tender wound. At last, Luna grabbed his hand, causing Draco to gasp once again. Only this time it was in response the sensation of her soft, small hands on his. It was a welcome feeling to experience the warmth of her touch after nearly a year of nothing but cold and pain.

As Luna turned over his wrists, Draco was overwhelmed with shame for the burned mark on his left arm. He was sure that she would hate him now that she saw with her own eyes that the rumors about him had been true. He had, indeed, been a member of Voldemort's Death Eaters, but why should he care? He defensively hardened his gaze, but she continued to look up at him with softly misty eyes, with tenderness, she applied yet another layer of the smooth yellow substance to his burned skin.

_A cosmic fish they love to kiss,  
they're giving birth to constellation._

"Why are you being so quiet?" Draco asked, not knowing whether it was to break the silence or escape his own thoughts. Luna turned away from his eyes.

"Because I have a lot of questions and I'm afraid to ask any of them," Luna answered, more to the wall than to him.

"Oh. Well it's not like I have anything to hide anymore," he said quietly.

"Why did you do it?" she blurted. Draco knew exactly what she was talking about.

"I had no choice. They were going to kill my father," he answered.

"Oh, was that it? I thought it was because you thought Dumbledore was the worst thing ever to happen to Hogwarts," she said.

"I guess I have said that sort of thing," answered Draco uncomfortably, having just experienced Luna's unnerving honesty for the first time.  
"Still, things were outside my control."

"You could have gotten help," she whispered.

"Well I'm a bloody coward!" he yelled, mostly to hide the knot in his throat.

"Yes, you are," she replied in a small voice. Draco hung his head as she continued to work on the mark on his arm.

"Then why are you helping me?" he asked, sounding as cold as he could.

She turned to him with her large eyes, grabbed his hand again, and said, " No one deserves this. No one deserves to die," she continued, running the sap over the shackle marks on his wrist.

The little voice he had heard had finally become real.

_No riffs and oh no reservation,  
if they should fall you'd get a wish or dedication._

"Maybe I do deserve it" Draco mumbled. He was filled with self-loathing, yet here was this ethereal angel caring for him when so many people would have left him to rot. In fact, Draco knew that was exactly what he deserved.

"But you didn't do it. You didn't kill Professor Dumbledore, and that's why this happened, isn't it?" At last, their eyes met for the first time since she had found him. Draco just nodded.

Luna stood up with tears in her eyes and left the room. "Was she actually crying for me?" he wondered. He felt ashamed that someone like her, someone so innocent, would be crying over someone like him. To Draco's surprise, he felt a sudden urge to follow after her, but thought better of it. He was in a lot of pain anyway. And, why should he comfort her? As soon as he was well, he would be out of here. But where would he go?

The rest of the day, Luna didn't speak a word to Draco. She would come in periodically to check his bandages or deliver his meals and reading materials, but wouldn't utter a single word. He would sit up on the bed and watch her do a myriad of odd things, such as leaving the cabin with oversized magnifying glasses attached to her head. It actually lightened his spirit. Draco's contact with Luna was making him human again, a feeling that Draco had been trying to sever for years.

He watched Luna from his window all day. She divided her time into reading in the garden, typing a story about something or other, and sitting quietly while staring at the sky. She was certainly an odd creature, but there was warmth about her that made him feel better than he had ever felt before. It had only been a day, but he was also starting to marvel at the eerie glow of her hair, the soft curve of her hip, and the long slender legs poking out of oddly printed skirts. Draco shrugged this off as the first piece of non-Bellatrix tail he had seen in months, but he had a hard time taking his eyes off her nonetheless.

As the moon began to rise, Draco felt he was strong enough to move. A good thing too, for the moon was just about to peak its mesmerizing face through the window. He followed the sounds of Luna in the kitchen, as he did not know the lay of the cabin.

She was standing in the kitchen wearing very little clothing. Her hair was piled on the top of her head sprinkled with yellow weeds she must have just picked. Having her hair up revealed earrings shaped like tiny ravens. She had obviously bewitched them, for they were moving like real birds. Draco couldn't help smiling as he watched them flutter around the delicate parts of her neck. His eyes traveled downward over her tiny white camisole that left her slim, pale shoulders exposed. Her skirt was embroidered with what looked to be tiny golden snitches, and was quite short, indeed. Draco assumed it would have fallen to knee-length on any other witch, but Luna's legs were so long that they stretched far beyond its hem. Covering her front was a bright pink apron with purple dots.

Anyone else might well have found the sight of her silly. Truthfully, Draco was aware that he should have too. In fact, he did find her at little silly at that moment, but he loved the silliness. It made him feel good. After a year of hiding and a month of torture, her silliness if style was incredibly uplifting. It didn't hurt anything; Draco admitted to himself, that her tight young body would have looked good in almost anything. For a moment he wondered why he had never noticed this while they were at Hogwarts.

She hadn't yet noticed him standing there. She was carefully cutting up strawberries with her back turn squarely toward him. He admired the way her long body curved like ribbon, making her seem like elegant silk. He wasn't even embarrassed by his desire for her in this moment. It was actually a welcome change from the darkness that had for so long hung over him like a velvet curtain. He would restrain himself though, because he knew she would never want him. He didn't expect anyone would after what he had done.

_May I suggest you get the best,  
for nothing less than you and I?_

He realized he was shirtless, but couldn't help it; his arm was in a sling. He chanced a step into the kitchen to offer his help when he saw her shoulders shake as she uttered a short sob. He watched her cry, fighting with himself as to whether to give her privacy, or to go comfort her. He was about to walk away, never being fully qualified at tenderness, when she fell to her knees and began to sob freely into her hands. He walked quietly across the kitchen and kneeled beside her.

"Luna?" he asked, while gently placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Oh! You're up! Did I wake you?" she said quietly., although startled; she managed to graciously regain her feet, and resumed working on her strawberries.

"No, you didn't wake me. I was worried about you, though. Are you all right? If my being here is upsetting you, I can leave in the morning," said Draco with a wide-eyed look on his face.

"Don't be silly. You can stay here as long as you want. It's good to have the company," she said, wiping her eyes on a very questionable looking towel.

"Even if it's slimy, greasy old Malfoy?" he asked, trying to get her to smile.

"You're not so greasy anymore," she said, running her hand over the blonde stubble that now covered his head -- a condition of his imprisonment.

"Thank you," Draco said with sincerity. He softly placed his hand on her shoulder, before allowing it to run lightly down her arm. When he reached her hand, Luna's fingers surprisingly entwined with his. He allowed himself to run his thumb over the back of her hand, being taken over completely by impulse. "I would be dead if not for you," he added. She closed her eyes for a second and squeezed his hand in return.

_Let's take a chance as this romance is rising, oh before we lose the lighting._

"Do you want some strawberry shortcake?" she asked lightly. "You look like someone in need of sugar," she said as she flicked her wand to move the strawberries into two bowls, each of which already contained an opened biscuit.

"What the bloody hell is 'Strawberry Shortcake'?" Draco asked.

Luna turned to him and replied, "A dessert," very simply.

"Yeah, I can see that," he said.

"Glad to know your vision is working well," she replied.

Draco was gobsmacked at her remark, and simply began to eat the dessert quietly. Nevertheless, he watched her eat every bite with her eyes closed and a sad look upon her face. "Where did you learn to make this?" Draco asked, in an attempt to break her out of her sense of melancholy.

"It used to be my dad's favorite," she said softly. They continued to eat as Luna looked out the window. "The moon is full again. I bet the blood-hungry pixies are out for a snack. Dad would have loved to go hunt some."

"Sod the moon," Draco said sullenly into his dessert.

"Sod it AND fuck it," Luna said harshly.

"I had to look at that thing every night in that dungeon. It just watched me while I was tortured, floating freely above me," Draco said weakly. "Why do you hate it?"

"The moon brings death," said Luna. Draco was starting to catch on to the fact that she wasn't telling him something, and he became concerned.

"Why do you say that, Luna?"

"Oh just the blood-sucking pixies," Luna sighed, not sounding at all convincing.

"Luna, why do you keep referring to your father in the past tense?"

CRASH

Luna's bowl fell to the floor and she quickly picked it up. "You're being ridiculous," she said in an eerie calm. Then, she walked out, slamming the door in the process.

Draco finally saw things clearly. She was going to be his redemption, his reason to fight. He knew he had to fight the fear that had been beaten into him for far too long. He decided to follow Luna outside. He was no longer afraid of lingering shadows; he just wanted to find her. Draco trotted desperately through the woods, far past the warded cabin. He was becoming worried, scared all the more because he couldn't allow himself to lose the only thing he had left to look forward to in life. To his relief, he finally found her, crouched under an oak tree, staring up into a clearing. Draco came over and sat down next to her.

"Did you know my name means 'moon' in Latin?" she said, in her trademark dreamy voice.

"Of course. I've always thought it was an odd sort of name," he answered.

"My parents thought the moon brought good luck, and they said I was their lucky surprise," she said, her voice shaking. "They were fools."

Draco placed an arm around her slender body and tried to urge her forward with her story. "Why?" he asked, as she seemed to have ignored his question.

"Do you know it's been nearly a month since the last full moon? I've watched all of the phases, waiting for tonight when that eerie light shines over me again. You're the first person I've spoken to," she said, seemingly unaffected by the revelation that she hadn't talked to anyone in a month.

Draco was new to tenderness, but wanted her to continue. He remembered sitting with Pansy, and laying in her lap as she stroked his hair. It was the one pleasant thing she'd ever done. "It's alright," he said and guided her shoulders until her head was in his lap and she was facing up at him, the moon in her eyes. He began to stroke her forehead, and she didn't flinch. He didn't shy away. It felt almost comfortable.

"Bella Luna," he whispered. She blinked at him a couple of times before kissing the palm of his hands.


	7. Sleeping to Dream II

Sleeping to Dream: Part II

_But I woke up in the ditches. I hit the light and I thought you might be here  
but you were nowhere. You were nowhere at home._

The first sensation that returned was a burning in the lungs. Samantha couldn't move because every time she tried, sharp pains would shoot through her entire body. When at last she was able to open her eyes, she found that she was surrounded by dark, acrid smoke.

She heard shouting in the distance, but couldn't quite make it out. At last, when she could tell that some of the words were being spoken in Latin, Samantha began to panic. _"They are still here! I have to get out,"_ she thought to herself, as she attempted to get up. An involuntary scream escaped from her lips as she collapsed back to the floor. The pain was simply too much to bear.

Almost immediately she heard a man yell out "In here! The noise came from in here!" Samantha cursed inwardly at her own screams, knowing that she had given herself away.

Suddenly, a great outpouring of water came rushing through the doorway, dousing the smoldering rubble within her room. Then, as the smoke cleared, Samantha saw a boy standing in the doorway with a wand held firmly in his right hand. No older than 17 years of age, the boy was tall and thin. He had a sweet face, with a broad smile punctuated by rounded cheeks and rather large teeth. He looked like someone she should be able to trust. However, by this point in time, Samantha had learned not to trust anyone. So, she took the deepest breath her pained body could stand, and began to scream.

The boy looked like he was going to cry, or at least have a panic attack. "Shh…it's okay," he said, walking across the room to kneel by her side. "I'm not going to hurt you. I'm here to help," he said. At last she realized that she had no choice but to trust him. After all, he had put out the fire. He also had an unmistakably kind face. So, when he took a towel and offered to wipe the blood from her forehead, she let him.

"Do you remember what they did to you?" he asked sympathetically.

"No," she answered, "but the pain was so horrible that I wanted to die."

Suddenly, Samantha started shaking violently as fear and exhaustion took hold of her body, and unbidden tears began falling from her eyes.

The boy wrapped his arms around her to ease her shaking. "Don't worry. We're going to take you someplace safe, but we have to do it quickly. There are still Death Eaters everywhere."

"Who do you mean by 'we'?" Sam asked.

"My friends. We're trying to get these people – these Death Eaters -- out of your village. Oh my! I almost forgot. I'm Neville Longbottom." A light bulb clicked in Sam's head as he introduced himself.

"Have you guys started the battle? The one scheduled for sunrise?" she asked quickly. Now it was Neville's turn to look scared.

"No, but we will be starting very soon. But how did you know about our plans?" he asked.

"I heard about it last night when I was with George Weasley," she answered. "Do you know him? Is he okay? Do you know where he is?" Sam continued in a frenzy of nerves that left Neville looking totally confused.

"He's downstairs, but…" began Neville before Samantha started speaking over him. "George! George!" She yelled, until a loud crash downstairs silenced her cries.

Moments later a beautiful Asian girl burst into the room and locked the door. She spoke in a very thick Scottish accent. "They've gotten back in. George and Charlie are holding them off." She looked briefly at Sam before continuing, "We've got to get her out! The Ministry has just made it here. I saw the fireworks. We have to go!" Like Samantha, this young woman was frightened as well.

As she finished her sentence, the door suddenly crashed open, sending the pretty girl flying towards Sam, who screamed as she looked once again at the face of the evil woman who had tortured her.

"Expelliarmus!" yelled, the Death Eater, sending both Neville and the girl's wands flying. They were cornered. However, the sudden ruckus aroused Sebastian from his previous head injury. Sensing danger, the dog came protectively toward his owner, despite his slight limp.

"Wow! You're not dead yet, you filthy little muggle? The fat ones must have thick skin, too!" she cried while letting out a maniacal laugh. Sam felt the girl next to her stir and move closer. Neville, on the other side, stood where he could block the two girls from the evil woman.

"Don't hurt them, Bellatrix!" shouted Neville.

"Longbottom? Is that you? I recognize you; you have the same ridiculous teeth as your father. You know, I'm surprised to see a Longbottom display so much courage." She laughed in a mocking tone. "When I was torturing your parents, they begged for mercy. Begged! But I would never allow that."

The girl next to Samantha gasped, "You cruel bitch!"

Neville turned to her looking panicked. "Awww. Nevvy here didn't tell his little girlfriend. Shame shame," Bellatrix said as she flicked her wand at Cho's hair and dragged the girl towards herself with an invisible force.

Just then, Sebastian started to scratch at Sam's leg. He had a stick in his mouth, which Sam interpreted to mean that the dog wanted to play fetch. Obsessed with concerns about the Death Eater, Sam was about to bop him on the nose. When threatened with death would not be a good time to play! Yet Sebastian had already jumped to Samantha's defense, so she took another look at the stick her dog had retrieved. Only then did she realize just how special the stick was. In fact, it wasn't a stick, at all. It was a wand.

"Cho!" Neville shouted, as the girl was dragged toward the Deatheater. Bellatrix pointed her wand at Cho's neck.

"You see, I tortured Neville's parents and the funniest thing happened. They went completely nutters! Now, those ridiculous old fools are in little hospital robes wasting away their days in St. Mungo's." Bellatrix chortled heartily, like she was telling an amusing anecdote.

Samantha pulled the back of Neville's shirt and poked him in the back before slipping the wand into his front pocket, his shoulders stiffened.

"So I'll go ahead and torture her, and then kill you all. I'll do you last, Longbottom, so you can watch. Blood traitors deserve to suffer. Or maybe I'll get Dolphie to shag this little piece before we do her in. She is awfully ripe looking," said Bellatrix as she licked the side of Cho's face. Cho screeched weakly and started to cry. "Oh Honey, he'll love it if you beg!" Bella finished with a snort.

Neville let out a whimper. "What's the matter, Nevvy? Is the cowardly Longbottom gonna cry? Well I'll give you something to cry about!" Bellatrix turned maniacally slowly back toward the dark-haired beauty. She yelled and began to torture Cho again. The Death Eater concentrated with all her might, delivering all the power she could muster into the casting of the _Cruciatus Curse_.

Seizing the moment, Neville retrieved the wand that had been thrust into his pocket, raised it high above his head, and pointed it straight at Bellatrix. She turned around just in time to hear the words _"Avada Kedavra!"_ from Neville, before she fell dead in a flash of green light.

Samantha watched as Cho crawled over to Neville and wrapped her arms around him, kissing his forehead with frenzy.

"I killed someone," he whispered.

"You saved my life," she whispered back.

"But I'm a murderer," he cried.

"She has hurt you long enough. Why didn't you tell me?" she asked brushing his tears away.

"I didn't want anyone to know," he answered.

"I love you," they said at the same time.

Sam would usually find the pairing of such a stunning girl with a gumpy boy odd, possibly worthy of a few snide remarks. But in this circumstance, it made seemed to make perfect sense. Her eyes then wandered to the broken door as she wondered if George was worse off than they were.

_As I lay me back to sleep  
Lord I pray that I can keep  
Sleeping to dream about you_

"Let's go," Cho said, as she tapped her wand against a trophy Sam had won in a debate contest. Understanding that Samantha knew nothing about portkeys, she added, "Grab your dog and touch this on the count of 3. It will feel weird, but we'll be safe." Sam nodded and put an arm around Sebastian's neck. "1…2…3…"

Suddenly, Sam felt as though her navel was pulling her through the sky. When they landed, they were in a small stone room full of unfamiliar people. Some looked as if they had suffered terrible beatings, while others simply looked panic stricken. The combination of all she had been through this morning left Samantha overwhelmed by her surroundings. Even objects that should have seemed familiar were strangely different. There were paintings with moving people, large stone gargoyles, and an assortment of small moving objects; not to mention a barrage of people scurrying here and there. One of those people came over to speak with her after stopping momentarily to check in with Neville.

"So, how do you know George?" asked the woman suspiciously. Sam could feel her penetrating gaze going over her entire body, yet there was something so familiar about her eyes. In fact, they had the same mischievous sparkle that had initially attracted her to George.

"It's a long story," answered Samantha. "We've been…umm…dating. Then, just recently, he told me he was a wizard, and I didn't take it too well. … Oh I've been a fool!" Samantha cried, not knowing what compelled her to break down at that moment, after holding up so well under such intense pressure. There was just something so warm about this short woman. "I didn't go after him! In fact, I jumped away from him. I accused him of being a liar! What if I never hear that damned self-important chuckle again?"

_It's just a little a lullaby to keep myself from crying myself to sleep at night._

The strangely familiar stranger pulled her into a hug. "There there. It's understandable. You were scared, I would be too. It's just good you're all right. I hope he is," she finished, wringing her hands. "I'm Molly by the way. I'm George's mum."

"Lovely to meet you," said Sam, still emotionally shaken and physically exhausted.

This defied all logic for Samantha, but then again, her whole day had defied logic. She was standing there, having a cheesy "Hallmark Moment" with George Weasley's mum while people in odd clothing were appearing out of thin air to nurse some horrible looking wounds.

"Hello there, lovely," said a familiar voice behind her. Her hopes soared, but deflated the moment she turned around to see someone she instantly knew to be Fred.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"I'm fine. The question is…Is George okay? I haven't seen him anywhere," Sam answered, as a worried expression crossed her face.

"I'm impressed," said a tall, muscular woman who instantly grabbed Fred's hand. "How'd you know he wasn't George?"

"George has a freckle off of his left eye, and he's got a much bigger…" Sam started but was interrupted.

"Knob?" said a voice behind her.

"No, he has a bigger smile you perverted…George!" she answered, moving quickly from perturbed to ecstatic.

"Why do you have to follow me wherever I go, woman? Damn it, just give me some room to breathe!" he exclaimed with that big cheesy grin of his.

Samantha pinched his nose and said, "You have been breathing long enough," before he wrapped her in a hug so tight she could have popped. "I was going to grab the coin right before they came," she whispered in his ear.

Just a lullaby to keep from crying.

"It doesn't matter now. I'm just gad you're here and okay," he answered.

The room grew suddenly quiet as another group of unfamiliar people joined the ever-populating, _and ever-expanding, _room. George looked scared and determined. "It's time," he whispered. Samantha nodded gravely. "You stay in here where it's safe. If I don't…well…I've meant everything I've ever said to you," he said

"Just come back. I'm not going anywhere." She answered more to his neck than his ear.

"Okay! Here's where I need you guys to be when we do this!" shouted another tall redheaded guy with captivating eyes. He was holding a hand-drawn battle map. Samantha took a chair in the corner and tried to understand what she could. She did understand one thing though; fear is a state of mind. Today, it was a state populated by everyone around her.

_Sleeping to dream about you  
I'm so tired of having to live without you  
but I don't mind  
Sleeping to dream about you and I'm so tired_


	8. Bella Luna II

**AN: I am SO SORRY for all of these weird updates. For some reason, the formatting is waaaaaay off on this site right now. Please read and review anyway! **

Bella Luna: Part Two

_Oh Bella please,  
Bella you beautiful Luna,  
oh Bella do what you do._

They sat in silence for a while, as she ran her hands over his rapidly healing scars. Draco allowed himself to shudder lightly. "You're the first boy I've ever touched this way," she said "It's fun." Draco chuckled. He liked her frightening honesty. His life had been so full of lies. He touched her hand as it rested on her stomach.

"Why are you here, Bella Luna?" he asked softly, but she seemed afraid to tell him. "You don't have to say anything you don't want to. It's not like I'm going anywhere," he finished.

Luna looked at Draco like he was wearing a bright red clown suit. "Since when do you give a damn about anything?" she asked in a dreamy but analytical voice, not angry, as was her way.

"Since the Dark Lord told me to kill Dumbledore. Since I failed. Since they killed my parents in front of me. I had nothing left to give a damn about. But now, I feel like I still have a shot," he answered. He felt instinctively torn between embarrassment at what he was revealing to the most unlikely person imaginable, and anger that she had brought all this out of him. However, after a moment of reflection, he realized what he really felt was a sense of contentment in the warmth of having her so close.

Luna sat up and wiped a tear from his face, one he was sure he had kept in. He leaned his nose into her palm. Comfort was becoming a drug for him.

_You are an illuminated anchor;  
of leads to infinite number  
a crashing waves and breaking thunder,  
tiding the ebb and flows of hunger._

All of a sudden, Luna sat up and moved so she was straddling Draco's lap. He started to say something, but she wrapped her long fingers around the back of his neck and planted a fierce kiss on him. He was frozen at first, but soon became coherent enough to wrap his arms around her waist. As their tongues darted in and out of each other's mouths, Draco moved his hands up and down her back, counting every rib. He could hardly breathe. He had no idea why she was doing it, but he loved it all the same. He didn't pay any mind to the fact that he was shirtless, and his back was grinding into the rough bark of the tree they had leaned upon. He knotted his hands in her hair as she moaned into his mouth. He moaned back. He was dressed in only his very tattered jeans, and she was in a skirt, so when she ground her hips into his, they both gasped at the sensation.

Draco placed his hands on her hips and stopped her. "Have I done something inappropriate?" she asked, studying him like one of her fictional creatures.

"No. It's just…Why are you doing this?" Draco asked. Luna looked at him as if trying to mentally dissect him.

"A lot of terrible things have happened this past year," she started. Draco let his gaze fall guiltily down to his lap, but she grabbed his chin to pull him up. "Terrible things happened to you, too," she said, looking directly into his eyes. "And I get a certain feeling about things. I can't tell you what will happen in the future, but I have a strong understanding for the way things are now, and it feels like something big … something final … is going to happen soon. I trust my senses; I felt it at school at the end of the year too. I can feel Harry, Ron, and Hermione on their way back. I could feel you in the woods. I thought there was a creature out there," she smiled "I would have sensed if there really was something evil, but it was just you," she finished, ruffling his non-existent hair.

"You saved my life without a second thought," he said.

"I never think twice," she answered, and leaned in to kiss his nose.

"What did you mean by 'Harry, Ron, and Hermione are coming back'?" he asked.

"A few months after Dumbledore's funeral, the three of them showed up at the Quibbler with a magically sealed envelope to open should Harry die. If he dies, he wanted my dad to publish it," she started.

FLASHBACK

Ron, Hermione, and Harry stood in the quaint living room of Luna's village home. "I've got to go away for a while on a mission for Dumbledore. It is important that you keep this envelope with you at all times. If something should happen to me…"

"Harry," Hermione interrupted.

"No! Luna needs to be ready. I want you to keep this envelope with you at all times. Since there's no school this year, you won't be able to see your friends. Keep the coin, and Ginny will summon you if you need to know something, or if the DA needs to gather," Harry finished, more calmly than might be expected.

"I'll do whatever you need," Luna said. She wouldn't admit to them how important and happy she felt at the honor; that almost seemed too morbid…even for her.

Hermione ran forward and hugged her. "I may not have always been nice to you, but you're a spectacular friend," she pulled away with tears in her eyes.

"Did you get Nargles in your eyes?" Luna asked, as she saw Hermione cast her a warm smile.

Ron walked up and shook Luna's hand. "We didn't get time, so tell Dean, Seamus, and Neville goodbye for us," he said seriously.

"Sure," Luna smiled and forced Ron into a hug.

Harry walked up and handed Luna a picture of them from Slughorn's party, "You stay safe." He said, and hugged her. Then he backed away and all three disappeared in a puff of smoke.

END FLASHBACK

Luna pulled the envelope and coin out of her apron pocket, "It's is still magically sealed, so at least he's okay,"

"Potter is always so dramatic," Draco said with a scoff.

"And breaking his nose wasn't dramatic at all," Luna answered, as if it was a commonly known fact.

Draco retaliated by kissing her bare shoulders. The fact that Luna could make light of his many shortcomings put him at ease. "Why me for your last 'Hurrah' before the storm?" Draco said sardonically.

"I've always liked the shape of your head," Luna said, rubbing his skull as if she were studying it.

"Good to know," he chuckled.

They kissed and touched out there in the woods for what seemed like an eternity, and as the sun rose, Draco suggested they head inside. Luna began to stand up, but fell immediately. Just as quickly, Draco jumped to help her up. "Pins and needles, I must have been sitting on Sir Edgar's Nettles," Luna said.

"Fine then, alright," Draco said and took a deep breath as he lifted her, and carried her to the house. She was so light she had little affect on his injured arm. As Draco walked up the small hill to the cottage, Luna whispered its location, causing it to appear out of thin air. Her soft breath sent chills rippling down his spine, and Draco knew without doubt that he now had powerful feelings for her. He also knew that these feelings were proof that goodness still lived inside him. In response, he was determined to give her the best morning possible. But first, he wanted to know her, wanted to know the real reason she was hidden in the forest.

_You're dancing naked there for me  
you expose all memory  
you make the most of boundary_

He walked in and set her down on the small couch before positioning himself so she could lean on him. "Why have you been hiding here for a month, Luna?" he asked. She sighed and curled herself up so her head and back were resting against his head, and his hands were around her waist.

"Daddy and I were studying the phases of the moon as they relate to Wrackspurt sightings, so we were outside in the full moonlight. All of a sudden, I felt something cold run over my head and my wand was thrust into my hand," she started, in a very small and timid voice, uncharacteristic of her ethereal demeanor.

"A disillusionment charm?" Draco asked anxiously.

"He was protecting me," she started, crying into her hands. Draco didn't really need to ask why. He knew the root of all pain. It was his permanent punishment.

"He told me to run through the house and into the woods, as far and as fast as I could. He said that when I couldn't go any farther, I should apparate to the cottage. He said I would be safe here. That's when I saw the shadows of hooded men," she said, like she was reading a shockingly suspenseful passage in a book.

"Death Eaters," Draco said and hung his head. "I swear I had nothing to do with it."

"I know you didn't. I saw their faces. I recognized Bellatrix and Rodolphus from the Ministry battle," she said, talking slowly so as not to cry.

"Rodolphus killed my parents in front of me two weeks ago. But how did you see them if you were supposed to be running out of the house?" he asked as he gripped her tighter, to protect them both from the eerie chill of the recollection.

"Daddy grabbed my shoulder and told me that no matter what happened, even if he were hurt, I had to keep running. He said he would be right behind me. He knew that we couldn't apparate because they had put wards up. He told me not to try to save him, just to run," she repeated, then dropped her head into her hands.

Draco turned her to face him and held her close. He was silently wishing he could bear the burden for her, even though he had never before wished pain upon himself. He'd never really cared for anyone else's feelings either. He still didn't really care about anyone… anyone but her. She was different. She was like his own buried treasure, his secret. She was his angel, even if it seemed like a cliché. It was simply unbearable to see her hurt. It was ironic, because he had always taken pleasure in other's misery. He had even mocked Luna back at Hogwarts. But now he found no pleasure in her tears. Instead, he gently wiped the stray droplets from her cheeks, in the hope that she might find a small amount of solace in his genuine concern.

Luna resumed her narrative. "Daddy lifted his wand as I started running into the house, and that's when the Lestranges came out of the kitchen and disarmed him. I was so scared, but I just kept running."

"You did the right thing. It's what he wanted you to do," Draco reassured her.

"I headed through the kitchen to the back doorway as quietly as I could. Then I saw _him, a towering man with menacing yellow eyes_ in the back yard. He took his robe off on my back porch and began to transform. He became massive, toothy and hairy. I had no way out without him smelling me, so I had to go back inside. I ran and hid under the printing presses in the basement.

Then I heard a scuffle and Bellatrix screamed 'Greyback can smell your daughter, old man.' So Daddy yelled 'Luna, just keep running,' and that's what I did. I jumped out of the basement window and ran. I heard my father scream, then I heard their footsteps, so I deliberated as hard as I could and apparated here."

Luna was now sobbing almost uncontrollably, but managed to regain her strength. "If he were okay, he would have made it here by now."

"Couldn't you go to find help?" asked Draco. "Why did you spend and entire month alone like this?"

"Who could I have gone to? I don't have anyone left," Luna said. Her voice was so empty that Draco felt compelled to fill it with something.

"I know it's only been a few days, and I don't even deserve what you've done for me, let alone…" Draco started as Luna lifted her big eyes to meet his. "Well…you have me. As long as you want me, I'm yours. I don't have anyone else either, but I feel like you magnify what good is left in me. I'll be here for you if you want me." Draco brushed a finger under her eye and kissed her forehead. Luna leaned her head against his shoulder and let his long arms embrace her.

"Ahhh!" Draco jumped back at something hot against his thigh. He looked at Luna strangely as she pulled out a gold coin and ran her fingers over the lettering.

"I have to go," she whispered to Draco, and his shoulders slumped. He could feel worry, anger, hurt, and a bevy of other emotions he couldn't place rising in his chest.

"Oh sure, leap at whatever Potter wants you to do," he said bitterly. He had just hung himself out there, but now she was off to meet everyone's hero. He could feel the Malfoy ire rise in his chest, and continued to rant about Harry for another three minutes. Luna remained calmly seated on the couch, gazing at him. When he finished, he finally met her eyes, and was astonished at her calm demeanor. "Are you finished?" she asked with a smile. He was too gobsmacked to answer. She wouldn't even yell back?

Luna walked toward him and placed a long slender hand on his chest. He instantly felt his anger fade. "I'll be back. I just want to find out what's going on. I'll come back for you," she said softly.

"I think I want to go to the Manor one last time," Draco said, suddenly struck with the depressing idea he'd probably never see his home again.

Luna's eyes got wide for a second before she pulled out a piece of paper. On it she wrote the location of the cottage and said, "So you can come back safe." He kissed her softly, his hands on her face. "So you can too," he said, his voice weak. And with that, they both apparated.

Draco paced the living room frantically awaiting Luna's return. She had been gone nearly four hours and the sun was now stretched high over the English countryside.

Suddenly, storm clouds rolled in and it began to pour rain and lightening from the sky. Draco could now feel the unease Luna had been talking about.

A few hours ago, he had been going through the charred ruins of his childhood home. It didn't surprise him one bit that 'they' would have destroyed all evidence that attested to his family's existence. The upper floors had fallen in pieces onto the main floor, covering the imported marble tile, the only piece of finery that hadn't been looted. He had ambled sadly into his parents room, evidence of his father's royalty crumbled to the ground. He'd been a cruel man, an awful man, but he shouldn't be dead. He should be rotting in prison, but not dead.

Draco had been broken out of his recollection by a small, shiny cherry box. It seemed to have some sort of preservation spell on it. It must not have seemed very valuable to anyone else, but Draco placed it in his robes and apparated back to the cottage. When he arrived, he sat on the couch and gingerly opened the tiny, elegant box.

The contents were inconsequential to most, but meant the world to Draco. First, he took out a small, worn picture of his mother. She was young, in her Slytherin robes, and her fair hair danced wildly around her head, moving with the picture. She clutched some books in one of her dainty hands, and smiled keenly at the photographer. He stared, transfixed, as the slight curve of her mouth moved back and forth between somber and happy. He knew his mother was beautiful. He often took pride in how she carried herself, and how people admired her grace.

Draco was struck with guilt at how he'd treated her over the last year. He'd gone against her wishes to join his father. And even with all of that, she had made every sacrifice she could to keep him safe. Her sacrifices resulted in her own death. Draco knew the blame fell mostly upon his father, and upon the Dark Lord, but he couldn't help but feel shame. If he had only heeded her wishes, her graceful smile would be looking at him over some fine imported tea in a porcelain cup right now.

Now, as he waited for Luna to return, he toyed with the only other thing in the box. It was a small, simple ring. It had a thin, silver band with an opaque white opal perched precariously on the top. She had shown him that ring only once. It was from her uncle Phineas, before he had been removed from the family. She said that he'd told her she had a light in her that didn't belong with the Blacks, and this ring would be her reminder. Draco was glad for that small memory of what his mother once had been.

He stood on the porch watching the lightening graze the hills in the distance, looking for any sign of Luna, or danger. Just then, she popped in, looking pale, and soaking wet. Draco summoned a towel and rushed to her, she was shaking through her skin. "Are you going to-" Draco was going to finish, but Luna had jumped on him, wrapped her long legs around his slim waist and kissed him long and hard.

Luna pulled back and stared at him unblinkingly for what felt to Draco like 30 seconds. He was beginning to feel odd standing there in the rain with a sopping wet girl wrapped around his waist. "Even metaphors of the moon make you foolish," he thought with chagrin.

_You're the ghost of royalty imposing love  
you are the queen and king combining everything_

"What you said today meant a lot, especially now. No one has ever cared in that way about me. It feels so good right now. Safe." Luna said, as she began kissing him again.

"What do you mean 'right now'? What's going on?" he asked, feeling very confused.

"Less talking, more kissing," Luna said. Draco threw his head back and laughed, his caution thrown away. He happily complied and kissed her all the way to the bedroom.

Draco loved the way Luna moved. She was so wild and passionate, but she was elegant like something seamlessly moving with the wind. He'd always fancied himself rather good in bed. He'd shagged a lot of muggle girls and left them hanging, just for tail. They were happy when he was doing it though.

However, now Draco found himself the victim of a walking cliché; a fool caught in the glow of the moon. He didn't want to hurt Luna, he wanted to go slow, and memorize every line of her body, like spending time with a good book. He was starting to fear that this desire to better himself was love. And the cliché continued.

Draco was glad for this burst of something after the dark nothingness of hiding and imprisonment. He wanted this to last forever. He thought of his mother's ring placed lovingly in that cherry box, and then imagined the hand that was currently running up and down his arm adorned with it's simple beauty. Maybe someday she could wear it, and bring honor back to his name.

Intertwining like a ring around the finger, of a girl  
I'm just a singer, you're the world

Draco was almost positive it was Luna's first time, so he spent a long time kissing her. He loved how her wet hair almost reached the bottom of her ribs, the way her shoulders curved neatly under his calloused hands, and the soft dreamy moans he pulled from her.

He removed his dirty, worn trousers and looked to Luna as he unzipped the side of her skirt. She smiled and ran her hands over his lean, bruised chest. That small touch made him want to collapse. He moved the skirt off of her feet, taking her sandals with it. He looked at the sight of her in her under things, and he was completely gobsmacked. She was wearing a red lace bra and matching scantily cut underwear.

"What were you expecting, hippogriffs?" Luna said, and winked. Draco laughed the hearty laugh he'd grown used to these past few days and moved his nose to the crook of her neck.

"I never know what to expect from you," he said softly.

_All I can bring you  
is the language of a lover.  
Bella Luna, my beautiful beautiful moon  
How you swoon me like no other._

A while later, the storm was still raging as they curled in one of the sloppy quilts that adorned the cottage. Draco was about ready to drift into sleep when reality snapped him back to the reality of their situation. Luna was the first to speak. She leaned over so her eyes were locked with his and said, "Harry is ready to fight You-Know-Who. He's bringing the battle to Hogwarts in a few hours, and I'm going to fight."

"What? Are you fucking insane? You're going to go off and risk your life for Potter's war? Well then go ahead Looney!" Draco was on his feet, screaming, but Luna just sat up silently on the bed.

"I understand why you're saying these things. I guess this was all just a play for you, but…" Luna's voice began to shake as tears came to her eyes. "But I just wanted some affection before it all happened," she said as her tears freely fell.

_May I suggest you get the best  
of your wish may I insist  
that no contest for little you or smaller I?_

Draco paced into the living room. He was torn between his hatred of Potter, his fear that 'The Chosen One' wouldn't succeed, and his feelings for Luna. Seeing her standing there so vulnerable made the decision for him.

If cunning and logic got him nowhere, maybe the moon had the right idea. It seemed that life went in phases. Life went from a small, seemingly invisible existence, to something large and overbearing, and slowly back to small and simple. It was only in this sliver of a phase, that the moon is most grand. It didn't command the attention of those walking under it, or bathe everything in its path with a mark of unique color. It only hung as a piece of sky, willing those who wanted it to look up. He walked over to her and put his hands on her face. She just turned away.

"Look at me." He demanded, and she turned to him. "I'm sorry I yelled at you. I'm just afraid to lose you to Potter's war," he explained and pulled her close.

"You didn't see the Department of Mysteries. You don't know what we're capable of," She said into his shoulders.

"I love you," he blurted out.

Luna tilted her head to the side and put her hand on her chin. "I wasn't expecting that," she said, as Draco began to go pale. "It feels amazing to hear. I love you too, Draco Malfoy," she said, and kissed him again.

"I'm coming with you," Draco said as he went for his cloak.

"They'll kill you if they see you," Luna said in a panic.

"I don't want you to go into this alone. I said you had me, and I meant that in every way I could mean it. You have me in this. If we make it out, you have me in everything," Draco said. His bravery was overriding his fear, he was becoming a simple sliver, and his loathing of clichés was quickly ignored like an obscure poem. He couldn't imagine her, in all her glory, wand out and fighting for her life, without helping at all. If he was really transforming, then he needed to make the final edit to his former life.

_A larger chance set, but all them may lie  
on the rise, on the brink of our lives._

Luna perked up. "We'll talk to Hermione…don't make that face. She's the most rational one. I'll just have to convince her that you're ready to fight with us. Are you?" Luna asked without apprehension or pretense.

"I'm ready to fight for you. I'll take Veritaserum if I have to. I'll never go back to them." He grasped Luna's hand and put his mother's ring on her finger. "It's all for you…and her." He whispered. She put it on and they stepped outside.

_Bella please  
Bella you beautiful Luna  
Oh Bella do what you do_

Draco stood on the porch in the misty morning air. There was little light and the clouds had cast a dark shadow over everything. He breathed in the cool breeze and appreciated it nonetheless. At least the moon wasn't out. He looked over at Luna as she apparated away. "I have my own moon now," he thought, and vanished.

_Bella Luna_


	9. Tonight, Not Again

**Tonight, Not Again**

Hermione always found herself to be the lone voice of reason. Throughout her educational career, Hermione would always hold herself with perfect decorum. Even while battling three-headed dogs, she kept her cool, and kept 'her boys' in line. Even while dealing with prophesies, dark lords, and horcruxes, homework was still done and manners were still heeded.

She was always alone in her temperament. Tonight, or rather, this morning, by the looks of the ever-pinkening sky, was no exception. Ron was currently bouncing around naked, waving his wand maniacally at his lifelong enemy. Harry and Ginny were VERY ready to follow suit. Draco Malfoy was hand in hand with Luna Lovegood. And Hermione was there, lying naked in the room of requirement, trying to find the most probable solution to her predicament.

_And I'm all alone again tonight not again, not again, not again._

Hermione Granger could hardly comprehend the situation she was in, which was truly a rare occurrence for such a clever witch. The first incomprehensible fact was that she was lying, naked, in the Room of Requirement, trying to hide her nudity with nothing more than a blanket.

Ron, being the sole instigator of her lack of clothing, became her second reason for disbelief. She had just fornicated, all be it happily with Ron…on school grounds! Over the past year, Hermione had slept with Ron on many occasions, but that had been out of necessity, and Harry had always been present. He certainly wasn't present last night…at least she hoped not. Hermione Jane Granger had sex…with Ron Weasley! Her head spun with the remembered rush of emotion and sensuality that had consumed her last night.

_And don't it feel all right, and don't it feel so nice? Lovely._

Her third area of shock quickly replaced the euphoria of hearing Ron tell her he loved her: Ron, her lover, was currently standing naked in a room of familiar onlookers. His wand was drawn and his face was marred with anger. The exhibition of his…ummm…Little Weasley didn't seem to faze him at all. Neither did it seem to phase Luna, who was gazing at it with open interest and fascination.

This brought Hermione to the most pertinent aspect of her situational analysis: Luna had just interrupted her "morning-after-before-you-realize-you-could-die-today" by bursting through the door, dragging behind her a hooded stranger. Hermione was at first mortified at being caught in such an imprudent state, but then the stranger lowered his hood and she was too shocked to be anywhere near embarrassed. That is when Hermione found herself facing a badly scarred, and shockingly hairless, Draco Malfoy.

_Still I'm unable to inhale all the riches,  
as I'm awkward as a wound on my bones_.

This is when Ron had leapt to his very naked feet and drawn his wand, yelling "_Murderer!_" amidst a sea of profanity. When a panicked-looking Harry and Ginny also burst through the door, the gravity of her situation had become magnified. Hermione allowed for one second of glib thought as she marveled at what a poor Room of Requirement this was. The technical costs and benefits of the proverbial "secret room" needed to be set aside as she reminded herself of the checklist that had become her situation:

She was nude.

Ron was VERY nude.

Draco Malfoy was facing her…not nude.

Harry, Ginny, and Ron all had their wands on Malfoy.

It was hard to stay calm, wrapped only in a meager knitted blanket, however Hermione knew she needed to calm them down. "Ronald! Please lower your wand. You don't want to hurt Luna," she said sternly, though her heart raced and her voice quivered.

_Still I've got cobblestone joints and plate glass points,_

_As I'm all by myself tonight not again not again_

"She's obviously under the Imperius Curse, or she's a traitor!" Ron shouted, his eyes never leaving Malfoy.

Hermione looked into Luna's eyes, and Luna focused back. Her often-misty expression wasn't that of a cursed person, though it did lack that dreamy look that had become Luna's trademark. Luna looked frightened and worried, and that was all Hermione needed. Harry saw reason as well.

"Luna, what was I missing at Slughorn's party?" Harry questioned.

"Your eyebrow, though I thought it was quite a fashion forward statement," she answered.

Harry lowered his wand, Ginny following his lead. Carefully, she placed her hand on her brother's wrist and lowered his wand as well. Hermione was relieved that the direness of the situation had cleared, but as Ginny and Harry's eyes traveled downward, Hermione was reminded again of her need for clothes.

"I love the look, Ron, but I really don't feel like being oblivated right now," Ginny smirked as she quirked an eyebrow, deliberately keeping her head up.

Draco had begun to snort, but quickly shut up when Ginny lifted her wand again. Ron turned almost as red as he had last night, and he weakly squeaked "Blimey!" as he attempted to cover himself.

"Accio Hermione and Ron's clothes!" Hermione called out. Ron walked over to her as she raised a blanket, suspending it in mid-air as a makeshift curtain. Upon redressing, the couple emerged, though Hermione still felt embarrassingly exposed.

_Well if you should nervously break down  
when its time for the shakedown would you take it?_

"Luna, let's talk over here," Hermione said as she gestured to another small ottoman in a corner. Luna cast a worried glance back at Draco, and he lowered his head. "No one is going to hurt him … yet," Hermione said, glaring at her friends. Ginny nodded at her, and Hermione was convinced.

She sat across from Luna on the cushion, "Are you okay?" Hermione asked, and Luna nodded. Hermione sighed, "Start from the beginning."

Luna proceeded to tell Hermione of how she found Draco and took care of him. Despite her all-consuming hatred of the blonde-haired blowhard, what he had been put through almost made her cry. The war took its toll on everyone, and now it was here. Hermione was about to voice her conclusions, but Luna continued to speak.

"I'm amazed. The crescent moon must bring out lots of romance, or at least lust," Luna said, returning to her dreamy sate. Hermione looked at her quizzically. "Well, Draco and I made love, and I do believe this is the most fluttery I've felt since that pixie attack. I may be in love," she said, smiling. Hermione would have spit out her pumpkin juice if she had some.

_It's when you cry just a little but you laugh in the middle that you've made it._

"So, let me get this straight…" Hermione began, but Luna was not finished.

"And it's obvious you and Ronald have taken the leap into the chasm of love. I guess the war can really speed things along," Luna commented with a small glint in her eye. Hermione blushed but allowed Luna to continue. "And Harry and Ginny have paired off again." At this, Hermione looked at Luna in disbelief. "Well, they are holding hands…" Luna started, and Hermione looked over and smiled slightly at the sight of Harry's thumb dancing lazily over the top of Ginny's hand, even as she and Ron exchanged irate whispers and gestured wildly at Malfoy.

"And they've had sex as well, or at least some foreplay," Luna added as though she had said they had chicken for dinner. Hermione chuckled slightly. "Why do you say that?" she asked, trying to keep a straight face. She felt guilty at laughing on the morning of such an ominous day.

"Well, Ginny's shirt is inside-out, and more importantly Harry's shirt is currently sticking out of his zipper," Luna said, proud of her assessment. Hermione cracked a large smile as she saw the black fabric poking from Harry's pants like a flag. Harry looked at her, confused.

"So, we all had sex, we're all terribly ungraceful, we've all seen Ron's willie, and Draco Malfoy is on the good side after a few days with you?" Hermione said, now chuckling.

"That's the long and short of it, and the long of it again in Ronald's case…" Luna answered as her laughter began to consume her.

Hermione put her hand over her mouth, but the laughter overtook her, as well. "Well, his wand is 14 inches long," Hermione said through her hysterics. Soon, she and Luna were looking highly absurd, tucked on the garish ottoman in the corner, laughing with tears in their eyes.

"Oi!" they heard Ron shout. Hermione looked at him to see him looking utterly bewildered.

"Okay guys. It isn't going to do us any harm to let Draco fight at this point. It starts in 30 minutes; there isn't anything negative he can do to change the outcome. If he turns on us, you know everyone will retaliate immediately. Harry, does this make sense?" Hermione asked cautiously, allowing her laughs to subside.

"One foul move, Malfoy, and I'll kill you without question or thought. I know what happened on the Tower; I was there, petrified and under the cloak, but I saw everything," Harry finished, dangerously close to Draco. Draco looked shocked at this information, but understood what it meant, and he nodded.

As they left the room to face the end of it all, Draco spoke for the first time that morning. "Potter!"

"What?" Harry said shortly.

"Before you go and bloody save us all…you may want to check those rags you call trousers." Draco finished, looking smug.

"What the f…" Harry blanched as he gingerly tucked in his shirt and zipped his pants. Ron was chuckling madly.

"Sod off. You're the one with the sweet ass you know." Harry smirked, shutting Ron up as the group entered Dumbledore's office.

_Say it again. Lovely. So lovely to do it again  
Again. Loving again. It's coming again.  
Lovely._


	10. Sing Glory I

Sing Glory: Part I

As Harry exited the Room of Requirement, he took the last big breath before the plunge. He walked slowly through the corridors to collect his thoughts. After all, this might be the last time he would be alone with his thoughts for a while.

Harry Potter was at a crossroads. It seemed he was always at a crossroads, always being tested. He wasn't sure what would come of this test, but he knew it would be his last one.

_See when I wake up _

_And the day begins, _

_Do I hold my breath? _

_And count to ten?_

The plan was for Harry to open his mind connection to Voldemort, and show himself, Ron, and Hermione, and all that Dumbledore had revealed to him. It was a risk, but one he had to take. He wanted this to be fought on his terms, so he needed to force Riddle out. It was imperative, however, not to allow his adversary to learn that they had managed to destroy his Horcruxes. Harry hoped with all his strength that he had sufficiently mastered the art of Occlumency to be able to manage this feat. Lessons with Remus Lupin had strengthened him far better than the wasted sessions he had suffered through with Severus Snape.

Harry looked ahead at Luna and Draco holding hands, followed by Hermione, who even a second before battle, still had her nose in a book. He was happy she and Ron had found something of a chance together before things got too messy. For Merlin's sake, he was even happy that Luna found some comfort, despite the fact that it was with Malfoy. Harry had at last started to see the point; that everyone deserves a relationship with someone, and that nothingness turns people into someone like Tom Riddle.

Harry had basically spent the last two years focused completely on Tom. He had become intimately familiar with the more pertinent aspects of his life, and realized just how dark and empty it had been. Harry knew he could never stand to be like that.

Not that he was happy about his current situation, but quite the opposite. Harry was bitter that one evil man had stolen his chances at a normal life, that he had been forced to live out a reluctant destiny of revenge and finality. He looked toward the entrance to Dumbledore's office and saw Ginny waiting for him. She was looking mutinously at Draco. Harry thought once again, "Live or die, it all must end tonight."

_Or will it be _

_Three? _

_We'll see, we'll see, _

_It depends on which day of the week_

"Are you ready? Do you need anything?" Ginny asked, not with sympathy but with a sense of purpose.

"Just hold my hand for a while," he said, as they walked slowly up the steps.

Dumbledore's office had been transfigured to accommodate a makeshift headquarters. Every member of The Order had answered the call; there were about 100 in number, almost equal to the known Deatheaters. People became very quiet when he stepped in. Harry laughed bitterly, as he thought, "What else is new?"

Ron stepped in to break the silence. "All right, here's the plan," he called out as Hermione suspended his plan in the air, her face swelling with pride. "We want an auror at each major flank, to keep a point of guaranteed strength in each section. Aurors that I don't already know, step forward," he said with an authority beyond Ron's normal relaxed demeanor.

No one really questioned Ron's ability, after hearing what they had accomplished this year, Ron actually got respect. He counted the aurors. "It looks like about 2 per flank. Now the front, left, and right will push them fully onto the grounds, while the back will surprise them and locks them in. They will be coming and apparating in from everywhere. Our objective is to try to push them into the middle. Hagrid has his brother and a few giants to scare them one way, and we're sure the centaurs will keep them from going too far into the forest," Ron took a deep breath and continued to delegate tasks, with feedback and changes from Moody.

Harry laughed to himself again, remembering the little boy with dirt on his nose that he met on the train. Ron had been his best friend, and a loyal partner in adventure ever since. Now Ron was speaking with more confidence than he had ever had in his lifetime. He towered over everyone in the room except Bill and Kingsley as he explained the battle he had spent weeks carefully plotting out like a chess match.

In the end, it was decided that Kingsley and another man would take one side, Tonks and Dawlish would head up the middle, and two other strange aurors would take the other side. As a cat, McGonagall would be perched up in a tree to keep watch; she would get help to anyone injured or in need. Cho, Madame Pomfrey, and Mrs. Weasley were to set up a triage for the injured in Dumbledore's office, because the wards made it the safest place in the castle.

The most cunning, quick, and sneaky ones (Mad Eye, Fred and George, and Fleur) were to hide out and spring little surprise attacks on them. Fleur nodded in agreement and held Corbin tighter. Bill protested.

"No. You cannot go out there and endanger yourself. You can't leave our son, he's only three months old!" he cried, rushing over to his new wife.

"That's three months too many in a world like this. I don't want him to live the same life we have. And you know I am useful. I want to fight for our family!" Fleur yelled, tears in her eyes. Bill grabbed her hand and kissed her like it would save his life.

"You are always perfection," he whispered, too proud to worry about his wife now.

"What are we going to do with Corbin?" Fleur said, worry marring her striking features. Molly pointed to a confused looking girl and with blonde hair and glasses sitting in the back corner.

"Sam will take him. She's a muggle, so she can't really fight, but…"

Sam rushed over and butted in, looking anxious to participate. "I'll be glad to. I'll protect him as much as I can. He'll be safe."

Now that it was all settled, it was Harry's turn to talk. But what could he say? He cleared his throat to stall before finally speaking. "We're not fighting to kill, maim, and destroy. We're fighting to restore our world to the way it was, the way it should be, without fear. We're fighting to remember those we've lost, so they will not have died in vain. This one is for James, Lilly, Cedric, Mr. Lovegood, Amelia Bones, Sirius, and most of all Albus Dumbledore," Harry said, sighing at the stricken looks on the crowd's faces.

_So I sing out, I sing out loud _

_"I'm just one _

_Tiny motherfucker _

_Singing proud" _

Everyone started to wordlessly move onto the grounds to fight their war.

As the others proceeded onto the grounds, Harry noticed that Ginny still had his hand, and he was grateful for it. It comforted him to know she was right there. All of the Weasleys had stayed behind, even Percy, who did not explain why he was there, but showed up anyway. Everyone in the room looked at each other with a mixture of forlorn and bittersweet hope. Harry's comforting thought was that at least they had each other.

Harry sincerely wondered who he had until he looked down to notice his hand again, still clasped tightly and safely around Ginny's. At least he had her, if only for a little while.

Tension and purpose had begun to flit about the room. There was a spark touching each and every person who was facing their possible death that day. This unseen and undetected spark moved people into the most raw and natural actions. Everyone seemed to move about Dumbledore's office with a destination, an idea of what needed to be done.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley slowly floated, in a dazed but calm fashion, toward Fleur, who seemed fully engrossed in the coos and cries of young Corbin. Mr. Weasley placed his hand on the baby's warm, soft skin and looked adoringly at the young boy. Mrs. Wealsey had moved behind Fleur and put her arm around Fleur's delicate shoulders, she laid her head in line with Fleur's and sighed.

Bill perked his head up and came from the other side of the room toward his wife, taking position behind his mother and wife and slowly breathing, as if committing the scene to memory.

The next to moves were made by Percy and Charlie, who positioned themselves on either side of their father, coming in very close to the warm and reassuring presence of family.

Harry saw George move away from Samantha's warm embrace, kiss her on the cheek, and walk away toward the grouping of Weasleys by the window. He seemed to be carried my something more than just his feet, as a calm smile also appeared on his face. Fred had managed to catch up with George, and hand in hand, they took up rank next to their mother and beside Percy, forming a semi-circle.

Ron rubbed Hermione's hand, then stood slowly. He walked over to where Harry and Ginny were wedged together and took Ginny's free hand. Harry was about to speak up and question this, but Ginny looked at Harry with fire in her eyes and stood to meet her brother. Together, they made the group of Weasleys complete. The whole family was now in a tight knit circle, breathing in some unseen aroma of calm, peace, and purpose.

Harry turned away from this, feeling empty and alone. He knew it would ultimately be just him in the end, but he longed for the reassurance of family in such a frightening time. He had never felt more like a child than he did in this moment.

However, the feeling was quickly gone, as a sniffle and a light weight on his shoulder assured him he still had family in this world. Hermione had moved herself close to Harry, and was seeking that same closeness and comfort with him. He felt a surge of something resembling great power and happiness move through him. He had family. Not just Hermione, but nearly everyone in this room. He was doing this for them, and that was all the purpose he needed. Harry wrapped his arms around Hermione and let a tear fall as well.

A soft orange glow began to fill the Headmaster's office. It was like that of a fire that you knew was only there to warm you and not harm you. It seemed to be coming from every Weasley in the room, as they silently held each other. There was so much magic in the love of this family that it poured out of them and met every other occupant of this small corner of the castle. Harry could feel it too, the feeling he could see behind Ron and Ginny's eyes. Not that everything was okay, but that it didn't have to be, because he had enough in him to fight with pride.

Looking more like the ancient king of his namesake, Arthur addressed his brood one last time, "Please, take this feeling out there with you today. Carry the Weasley name like a torch."

_Singing glory, _

_Glory _

_Hallelujah _

_Yeah, that'll do _

_Say that'll do. _

Everyone backed away and began to go out to their places for the battle. As Arthur, Bill, and Charlie left, and Molly went for medical supplies, Remus walked back in.

"Everyone's all set, Harry. We should get started," Remus said gravely. The remaining Weasleys left after George equipped Sam with all of the shield products for her and Corbin, just in case. Then, it was just Remus, Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny.

"You're gonna have to let go of my hand for this, love," Harry whispered in Ginny's ear. Then, he opened his mind, and showed Riddle a collection of memories, and revealing himself and his location. He was careful not to show the horcruxes, however. He didn't want Riddle to know that his secret had been discovered, or he might not choose to come. But he did show Riddle the various memories Dumbledore had shown him the previous year.

Suddenly, a pair of searing red eyes invaded Harry's mind, accompanied by Volemort's eerie voice. "I'm coming to get you, Potter. You asked for it. I'll destroy everything you love." With that, Voldemort flashed a picture of Ginny, Ron and Hermione before Harry's eyes. However, it was going to take more than that to scare Harry.

The pain was overwhelming, causing Harry to fall to his knees. "Then come and get me!" he screamed, and the pain instantly subsided. Harry opened his eyes and saw everyone around him looking shocked and frightened. Remus helped him up and waited for news.

"He's coming."


	11. Sing Glory II

Sing Glory, Part II:

_In the arms _

_Of a city _

_That holds no trace of a face_

_In the face the place of you and me _

Neville Longbottom watched the sun come up as he waited to confront what he expected to be a herd of Death Eaters. Kingsley had chosen to partner them up in twos. The familiar forms of Dean and Seamus were ahead of him, but Neville wondered, who was the strange man next to him?

His answer came swiftly as the sunlight gently illuminated the landscape. To Neville's complete shock and surprise, Draco Malfoy was standing near him, already locked in battle position. The boy they had once believed might be the Heir of Slytherin appeared lost in concentration, with telling scars on his face and an angry look in his eyes. Neville was horrified. "What are you doing here?" Neville shrieked.

"Oh don't get all high and mighty, I'm not going to bite you! I'm on this side, and if I betray you, Potter says you can kill me," Draco chuckled. "Though I doubt the sweet, innocent, Neville Longbottom can kill anyone," Draco added with a little sneer. Neville felt his throat tighten and his jaw clench. He kept replaying that life-altering moment over in his mind -- Cho screaming in pain on the floor, that evil woman's smile, and the flash from his wand. He felt like he was a killer, and his shame was palpable.

"Oh fuck me! You killed someone, didn't you? Ha! I can't fucking believe it!" Draco taunted.

"Shut up! Shut up! She was torturing Cho, just like she did to my parents. I couldn't let her do that to another person I loved!" Neville shouted before collapsing to the ground. Draco sauntered around with a sneer on his face, leaving the broken Neville to help himself up.

"You did what you had to do," Draco continued with an air of haughtiness that only a Malfoy could use when describing death. Suddenly his voice constricted, yet somehow he maintained his demeanor. "I watched while my Aunt Bella killed my parents right in front of me, and I was powerless to stop her. You had the power, and you acted. You need to look at the life you saved. You can't focus on killing, at least not now. If it weren't for acting, you would be crying for revenge right now. You would be just like I am, hungry to kill the woman who ruined your life. And believe me, I will kill Aunt Bellatrix." Draco said as he clenched his fists almost gracefully at his sides.

The solace Neville was finding in Draco's words quickly faded. He swallowed back another lump in his throat. "Malfoy?" he began, fearful of what he had to say next.

"I'm not gonna make out with you, Longbottom, we're not that friendly." Draco snapped.

"_Fuck it,_" Neville thought. _"I'm about to fight bloody Deatheaters, I can say whatever I want."_ He cleared his throat and turned to face Malfoy directly. "Its just that I've already killed Bellatrix Lestrange." Neville said with as much courage as he could muster.

A small smile, or was it a sneer, started to form on Draco's face. "I owe you one, Longbottom," said Draco, "although I would rather have done it myself."

"Good to know murder counts as a favor to you," Neville countered back, a smirk on his face too. Before Neville could be struck by how odd this scenario was, the Death Eaters began to swarm.

"Longbottom duck!" screamed Draco. "Expelliarmus!" he said and disarmed the offending Deatheater. Neville quickly tied him up with a binding charm.

"Happy to see me, Rookwood?" Draco asked.

"You little, spoiled, brat!" the bound man spat.

"Ha Ha!" Draco mocked. "Save the insults for Azkaban."

The battle continued to rage around them for well over an hour. Spells were continuously being cast and, for the most part, dodged. However, Draco suffered a deep gash in his leg when clipped lightly by a Sectumsempra Curse. Neville recognized the need for partners when, after he had been stunned, Draco managed to free him with only a flick of his wand. In the heat of battle, Neville hardly noticed the pain caused when two ribs gave way. They took turns taking down Death Eaters.

Despite their efforts, things had begun to turn for the worse. Neither Draco nor Neville were able to locate their fellow soldiers of the Light, and the Death Eaters seemed to have taken the upper hand. Miraculously, however, their side was cleared quickly when help arrived in the form of Hagrid, Grawp, and the other giants.

Taking stock of the situation, Draco and Neville decided to make their way down the hill to provide reinforcements for their friends who were engaged in heavy fighting at the gate. As they drew near, they heard a blood-curdling scream, and someone cry "Daddy!"

"Luna!" shouted Draco, causing Neville to panic. They ran as fast as they could despite the bleeding wound on Draco's leg, and Neville's broken ribs.

Two Dementors were hovering over Luna. She appeared to be suspended in mid-air by a blue light that reached from her waist to the cavernous black hoods of the Dementors.

"Expecto Patronum!" Neville shouted, as three other voices rang out simultaneously. Dean and Seamus had caught up with them and, together with Draco, had joined forces to cast the same spell. Draco's whispy snake protectively encircled Luna's body, while Neville's large panda bear, Dean's elephant, and Seamus' Monkey drove the Dementors away.

Neville watched Draco walk slowly to the spot where Luna lay on the ground. He fell to his knees beside her and whispered, "Not you too." Tears welled in his eyes as Draco sat on the ground amidst the dawn of a bloody morning. At last, he scooped her into his arms. "Wake up, Bella Luna, wake up." When she failed to respond, Draco's tears overflowed, streaming like a torrent down his face.

_Go make a life _

_And not a living _

_Singing glory, _

_Glory _

_Hallelujah, _

_Yeah, that'll do _

Neville, Dean, and Seamus were so stunned by the sight of Draco's tears that they were unable to spring back into the action. Suddenly, a small, gray cat came leaping up the hill. With its final leap, the creature began to transform into a tall elderly woman. Professor Minerva McGonagall must have seen Luna from her post, and had come to take her back to the makeshift hospital in Dumbledore's office. As she arrived at the scene, Draco was still clinging tightly to Luna's limp body.

"You can't take her," Draco pleaded when he realized what Professor McGonagell intended to do. "She's the reason I'm here! I can't lose her, too." When the professor failed to move away, Draco lost control of his emotions. "Get away you old hag!" he screamed, as his eyes continued to pour forth a steady stream of anger and grief.

Minerva McGonagall carefully walked forward and grabbed Luna's hand. "She still has a pulse, Mr. Malfoy. It's weak, but it's there. She needs to go to the hospital. You can go with her if you would like, but we have to take her. Now!" She spoke softly, but with authority.

"She's okay?" he asked.

"She's been through a lot, but she's still alive," the professor answered.

Draco's fist tightened over his wand. He looked at the war still raging below. He saw Charlie and Bill in a struggle they were sure to lose if they were to continue much longer, and without looking at anyone said, "Go!"

Dean and Seamus, with Gryffindor bandannas on their heads, paint under their eyes, and wounds all over their bodies, ran down the hill and into the fray with a primal yell. Draco followed, as McGonagall apparated away, running swiftly while letting out his own ear-splitting scream. Neville, who wasn't much of a yeller, just ran on. He hoped they could take out more of these madmen.

Across the Hogwarts grounds, Ron heard the frantic screaming of Dean, Seamus, and Draco as they charged back into battle. Ron took only a moment to look up, and saw where his friends were heading, then immediately bound up the Death Eater he had just taken down. He glanced over at Hermione, who seemed rather pleased with herself after having used Ginny's new curse to great results. As soon as he was sure she was safe, he sprinted off in pursuit of Dean, Seamus and Draco. Ron ran on pure adrenalin, because the skirmish being lost involved two of his brothers!

The odds were about 8 to 2, and Bill and Charlie were looking much worse for the wear. The arrival of Dean and Seamus caught the Death Eaters by surprise, allowing them to stupefy two of Voldemort's servants. Still, the odds were against them, causing Ron to redouble his efforts. As he arrived on the scene, Ron caught sight of a blast of green light heading directly toward his brother, Charlie. With his last burst of energy, Ron lunged at his brother, managing to grab his legs and pull him out of harm's way. Thinking quickly, Charlie rolled to his right and bellowed, "Sectumsempra" at the top of his lungs. Instantaneously, the black robes of the Death Eater were sliced open, and his blood poured onto the ground. With no one to administer the counter curse, the Death Eater was dead in less than a minute.

This battle near the gates was being fought ferociously, as Draco caught up with his new allies. The tables had turned, with the odds now shifted in favor of the Light. Unfortunately, the spirited fighting had drawn the attention of three other Deatheaters, who quickly came from behind to join this central battle.

Ron, whose attention had been directed toward his brothers, didn't notice the arrival of the additional enemies, and was suddenly overwhelmed by agonizing pain. He was completely helpless, and feared that he had seen then end, when the pain ended as suddenly as it had begun. Looking up, he saw Percy standing over him, and an incapacitated Death Eater lying only three feet away. "Thanks!" hollered Ron, as he quickly jumped to his feet. With the arrival of Percy, the Weasley brothers and their friends had survived the ferocious onslaught.

Their relief was short-lived, however, as scream of fear caused goose flesh to erupt over their bodies. Only a few yards away, Fenrir Greyback was changing in broad daylight, with Seamus Finnegan in hand.

"I love a tasty little half-blood, isn't that right?" Greyback screamed, looking hungrily at Bill. "But not nearly as much as a succulent trickle of pure, sweet, blood. Alas, I guess this little pint of whiskey will have to do."

Bill raised his wand in reply, but was shocked to find himself immediately disarmed. Moments later, all of them were suddenly bound and tied, as twenty more Death Eaters rushed over the crest of the hill. They had lost now, with Ron, Neville, Charlie, Bill, Draco, Dean and Seamus tied up and completely at the enemy's mercy.

Ron looked up in desperation, and was pleased to see that Hermione appeared to be holding her own. She was in a fierce fight with four Death Eaters, but Ginny, Angelina, and Oliver Wood were all fighting with her. Ron prayed she wouldn't see him like this. He knew that she couldn't afford the distraction, and that she wouldn't allow him to die unassisted. He also realized that, if she tried to save him, she would surely be killed. So, in sheer terror, Ron Weasley helplessly watched the woman he loved, and begged the fates to keep her eyes away from him, as he waited for the fatal blow to fall.

Almost as an afterthought, he wondered, _"Where in Merlin's name is Harry?"_

_There are things to know _

_Or so we're told _

_But the days they keep rollin on_

_So the pain of playin slow _

Fenrir bared his teeth at Seamus. "A yummy little Irishman makes a good appetizer."

"Dean!" Seamus yelled, tears freely falling from his eyes.

"Maybe you need a little toughening up first…I don't want to be eating a poof! Amycus!" Greyback yelled, and motioned for one of his fellow Death Eaters to come forth. As if on command, Amycus stepped forward and began to perform the Cruciatus Curse on Seamus. His screams of pain were almost overshadowed by Dean's cries, making it unbearable for Ron to watch. He quickly returned his attention to Hermione, who was still fighting on the hill beside the castle. He admired her strength and hoped she would remain strong after his death. However, his attention was drawn back to Fenrir Greyback, who was slowly approaching his eldest brother.

The werewolf looked directly at Bill and snarled. "I think it's time to finish what I started last year. Then, I'll take them down the rest of your friends and turn your brand new son," Fenrir growled. "He will make a remarkable werewolf, don't you think?"

Everything was playing out in a way Ron had never expected – a way that was much more than he had ever expected. Yet somewhere in the back of his mind, Ron remembered a day when Dumbledore had cautioned everyone at Number 12 Grimmauld Place about the dangers of excessive confidence. It was a term that perfectly described the cocksure arrogance being exhibited by Fenrir Greyback and his team of Death Eaters. Suddenly, without warning, a blinding flash of blue light rendered Amycus unconscious. Seamus ceased struggling, but remained bound and on the ground. Fenrir turned to see the culprit, but saw nothing. Moments later, another flash of light came from the forest and hit another Death Eater.

"We're being attacked from the forest!" shouted a female Death Eater. In response, the remaining bundle of Deatheaters headed off toward the menacing trees, leaving an infuriated Fenrir Greyback alone with his tied up victims. The werewolf gnashed his fearsome teeth, and began to move toward Bill. Ron struggled against the ropes that held him magically in place, helpless to assist his brother. He closed his eyes, unable to bear the sight of his sibling being torn from limb to limb, but was roused by a maniacal scream. As his eyes opened, the brightest blue light he'd ever seen smashed into Greyback, turning him into statue of ice.

Ron turned to find Fleur running quickly ran toward her husband. With trembling hands, she quickly untied Bill, before turning her attention to the others. Together they completed the task in only a couple of minutes. Finally, Fleur turned to her husband with tears brimming in her eyes. "I couldn't let him kill you. I couldn't let him destroy our family! But I had no idea that was going to happen."

"Don't be startled by your powers, Fleur. You're a mother now, so your magic has more of a passion behind it." Bill said, his eyes watering. Fleur looked up at him with her sweet, bright smile, as the outside world ceased, momentarily, to exist. There short-lived moment of tranquility came to a crashing end, as a shout from Dean turned her head. The light that seemed to perpetually surround Fleur was suddenly extinguished in one flash of sickly green light. She fell in a graceful heap of blue robes on the dewy ground. Her husband fell with her, sobbing uncontrollably.

Ron wanted nothing more than to run to his brother, to help him pick up the pieces, but he had just witnessed the price of lost concentration. Above all else, Ron Weasley had to keep fighting.

_And there's ways to grow _

_Yeah, but blow by blow _

_See, it all gets lost somewhere, _

_Now see I already forgot _

Now untied, Draco and Neville struggled back to their feet and set out to fight their enemies who were retreating from the woods. Fred, George, and Moody had somehow come to their aid, and were engaged in a harrowing fight with the attacking Deatheaters. With their combined powers, they appeared to be winning. Ron stopped only momentarily to check on Seamus before continuing on. Dean had Seamus' head in his lap and was trying to revive him.

"He must have been in so much pain." Dean said with his jaw tight, in an effort to maintain a stoic gaze on Ron.

"He's still warm and alive," said Ron, touching Seamus' neck.

Dean ran his large, dark hands over Seamus' pale, freckled face. "You must think we're mad. I mean, there are very few gay wizards," Dean laughed sardonically.

"I did, truthfully. But if it were Hermione, I'd be doing the same things right now," Ron said frankly.

"Mmmmm. I love you too, Dean," murmured Seamus in his sleep.

"You should get him to a hospital, mate," said Ron, but Dean was struck silent by events taking place around the castle. A circle of Death Eaters had formed a semi-circle around the castle, reaching from one corner on the Black Lake to another. As if they were conductors at a symphony of destruction, they were waving their wands with dramatic motions, blowing the ancient structure up section by section.

"Sam!" shouted George from somewhere behind Ron before sprinting up the hill like a madman.

"George you can't!" called Fred after his twin brother. Undetected by George, two Death Eaters had come from either side and cast their spells. Fred leapt at his brother, pushing him to safety, but taking the brunt of the unknown curses in his stead.

Fred lay there, lifeless, but there was no time for Ron to rush to his aid. Another flurry of Deatheaters were swarming in on everyone. It seemed as though they could really lose. And worse, Ron couldn't see Hermione anywhere. He had also yet to see any sign of Harry Potter.

As all appeared lost, yet another swarm of people came bounding onto the grounds. At least 50 sharply uniformed ministry aurors had apparated just beyond the gate and were storming up the hillside. Following them was what Ron could only describe as a mob of angry villagers brandishing wands. The Death Eaters that had attacked Fred and George were forced to defend themselves from the crowd.

Ron quickly made his way over to his brothers, desperately needing to see if Fred was still alive. However, he found himself distracted by what was happening on a cliff high above the Black Lake: Lord Voldemort had Harry hanging by his neck over the water.

Ron knew immediately that nothing else mattered. His world was dangling by a thread, compelling him to run at full force toward Harry. He could see out of the corner of his eye that Ginny and Hermione were rushing up as well. When at last they reached the top, all three pulled out their wands. Hermione cast the first spell, but nothing happened to Voldemort. Hermione's spell was repelled as if a shield protected him. Next, Ron tried to break the through the shield with 'reducto', but still there was no effect. They were helpless and couldn't get to Harry.

_So sing out _

_Sing out loud _

_You're just another _

_Motherfucker _

_Singing proud _

_Singin glory _

Ron, Hermione, and Ginny moved closer to each other as they watched Voldemort and Harry.

"You pathetic little shit! Did you really think you could defeat me? I am immortal! But of course, you had no way of knowing that! Now I can finally put an end to 'The Boy Who Lived'" shouted Voldemort.

Harry laughed despite his lack of air. "You underestimate me, Tom, but that's always been your greatest weakness. I've destroyed some pretty powerful things. For example, a locket with an 'S' on it, Helga Hufflepuff's cup, Ravenclaw's wand, and even your putrid little snake. We've been busy this year. And even before this year, Dumbledore destroyed an odd ring. Oh, and at 12, I killed a certain diary in the Chamber of Secrets. You see, I don't end easily, but it is now easier to end you," Harry laughed in such a cold way, it was almost unsettling to Ron.

Riddle's blind rage erupted as he flung Harry into a rock face, causing a momentary lapse in the shield. Ron saw an opportunity, and he was going to take it, as Voldemort's attention was focused entirely on Harry.

"You're going to die a painful death now, Potter!" Voldemort cried, as he raised his wand. He muttered an intelligible sound and a dark purple light came from his wand. Ron went to make his move, but was pushed aside by Ginny, who ran screaming toward Harry.

Everything appeared to move in slow motion as Ron watched Voldemort's spell blast Ginny squarely in the chest, just as she threw herself in front of Harry. She hovered in the air, yelling out in pain, with tears in her eyes and the purple light coming flaring out of her eyes and fingertips. Harry screamed in anguish and tried to pull her down, but to no use.

Ron looked to Hermione, who appeared more determined than scared, and he instinctively knew exactly what to do. "Expecto Patronum!" he yelled, thinking of nothing but Hermione. With dark, intense eyes, she did the same. Her otter blinded Riddle, while Ron's little dog encircled Ginny and carried her slowly to the ground. Harry fell to his knees over Ginny, so Ron and Hermione quickly moved to stand in front of him. Ron knew he had to be strong in this moment for Hermione and for Harry. He stood tall, and looked directly at Voldemort.

Voldemort wouldn't take his eyes off of Harry, who had thrown himself over Ginny's tiny frame, crying 'no' into her chest. The Dark Lord let out an evil laugh. "You're pathetic, Potter. I can't imagine why I'm wasting my time on someone so weak. What a disgusting weakness," he sneered.

Ron maintained focus on Voldemort as Hermione attempted to coax Harry up. "Fight back for Ginny," Hermione whispered. "She wouldn't want it to end this way."

A light seemed to go off in Harry's head. He stood up and shouted, "My weakness is my greatest strength!"

Ron grabbed Harry's hand as he raised his wand while Hermione, in turn, grabbed Ron's. They began to chant the incantation for their Amplexus Charm, while Harry focused entirely on Voldemort. Ron could see Harry becoming more powerful. A brilliant white light was radiating from Harry, and Ron could have sworn he looked at least a foot taller.

When Riddle cast the first blow, Harry easily blocked it. Harry's counter curse actually knocked Voldemort down, causing a look of panic to cross his eyes. Then, Harry did something instinctively, crying "Fulgor Lumens" at the top of his lungs. A burst of blinding light sprang forth, not from Harry's wand, but from the center of his chest. It hit Voldemort directly.

There was a massive explosion, and it appeared at first that Voldemort had been obliterated. However, after the smoke cleared, Tom Marvolo Riddle, not Voldemort, lay dying on the ground. A dark light emanated from Riddle's wand and connected directly to Harry's forehead before the all to familiar rattle of death could be heard from Riddle's mouth.

The odd light from Voldemort's wand had penetrated Harry's scar. Ron heard no yell of pain or grunt, just silence as Harry fell backward. Hermione lie on the ground by Ron's side, her hand slowly losing its grip. Ginny lay pale and blue-lipped about three feet away from them.

Ron found himself on his knees in between Harry and Hermione. He wanted to die, overcome by grief. He was convinced that Harry and Ginny were both dead, but he couldn't allow himself to fall until someone came for Hermione – his Hermione – the only thing keeping him at least momentarily alive. He swayed back and forth, searching through blurred vision for help. At last, he saw his mother and father running toward the cliff. As they reached the scene of the destruction, Mrs. Weasley let out a scream and began to sob over Ginny. Ron fell back, landing on a soft patch of grass.

Ron couldn't see or hear but for blurred patches and distant echoes. He could hear his father yelling for him, but all he could whisper was "Hermione…" As everything went dark, he heard his mother's plaintiff cry.

_See we should all keep pretending, _

_That our dreams are patent pending, _

_You should see some of the scenes that I've seen._


	12. Sing Glory III

Sing Glory Part III

A/N: I know this three-part chapter is long, but I just really wanted to show all aspects of this war from everyone's perspective.

_And I know love _

_I've flown above _

_And beyond _

_But it's still too long of a wait _

The warm light on the back of her eyelids made Hermione startle awake. As far as she could tell, she was in a tent under a very hot surgical light. "I just don't know what happened to her," said Madame Pomfrey.

"Why won't she wake up?" Cho asked.

"How did they do it?" Wondered Remus, utterly amazed.

"Oh Hermione!" Mrs. Weasley's soft blue eyes were now gazing on her. "Do you know what happened up there?"

Hermione couldn't find her voice so she had to whisper, "Did Harry do it?"

"Yes dear, he did. Lord Voldemort is gone," Molly said with a watery smile. Hermione felt an immense sense of relief, but it only lasted a split second as the events of the day played back in her mind.

"Oh my god! Ron! The Castle! Harry! Oh Ginny, is she d…dead?" Hermione began to sob uncontrollably. Tonks came around to comfort her. There were wounds all over her bandaged body, but her hair was electric blue.

"Hermione, Ginny isn't dead. You need to relax. You've been through a lot. You've only been out for 10 minutes. We can't help any of you because we don't know what happened. Ron appears to just be sleeping, but Harry is completely limp and cold. He's unconscious and fading fast, but Ginny is the worst off. She is getting colder, her breathing is getting shallower, and her heart is nearly at a stop. We have no idea how to help her." Tonks handed her some pink liquid. "Drink this, it will relax you and make things more clear."

Hermione took her time with the potion so as to organize her thoughts better. She looked around the tent and saw heartbreaking scenes. Some people had sheets all the way over them. Others may not have been dead, but they were deathly still. Seamus was sitting up next to Ron, lighting his blankets on fire. He was begging to get out of bed and be allowed to go help look through the rubble of the castle.

"How did you guys manage to get out?" Hermione asked Molly and Madame Pomfrey.

"We were already out when the swarm of Deatheaters started. We needed to fight. We can't find Sam, Luna, and Corbin, though. And we think Luna is badly hurt," Mrs. Weasley finished, wringing her hands.

"We need to know what happened up there," Remus insisted, looking forlornly at Harry.

"Well, Ginny took a curse aimed for Harry that was supposed to give him a slow, painful death," Hermione choked on her words. "She just ran in front of it. Then, she began floating, and screaming. There was a strange purple light coming out of her," Hermione began to sob, but Moody seemed to know how to help her and rushed over.

"Ron and I will be fine. We performed a spell I we had prepared that transferred our power to Harry. We're only drained momentarily," Hermione said, and Molly gasped.

"So that's how Harry did it. He just became three times more powerful," said Remus, smirking. He was clearly impressed, but Hermione couldn't smile back.

"I passed out after that. I don't know how Harry got that way," Hermione said in tears. She felt a pair of long arms enclose around her.

"Oh Ron, you're awake!" exclaimed Molly.

"Yeah mom, I'll be okay," Ron answered, looking back at Hermione. "Listen, I don't want you to feel guilty about Harry and Ginny. Harry did it, didn't he? And we did everything we could, no matter what happens, it's finally over." He said, wiping a tear from her cheek.

"I was so weak, I collapsed before I even saw what happened to Harry." Hermione cried.

"We channeled more power today than has ever happened before, probably. You can't blame yourself. Besides, I saw what happened to Harry," Ron said, looking at Remus. "What I think happened is, after Riddle fell, he was channeling not only our power, but Riddles as well. The spell that hit Ginny connected with Harry's scar before Riddle died." Ron finished, and looked around to see if his assessment was correct.

"So he was experiencing all of that power, and then got hit with a dark spell? Hmmm," Remus thought for a second. "Well, Moody has a way to help Ginny, but he says Harry's doesn't have any internal injuries, he just needs to fight it off himself."

"Yeah, I stopped Ginny's spell. Basically, what happened was a 'sectumsempre' of her insides that was working very slowly. Poppy is patching things up in there right now, Miss Weasley will be awake within the hour," Moody answered, looking grave, but slightly more relieved. Hermione also allowed herself to relax, but as Ron looked around the room, he became more panicked.

"Wait! Where is everybody? How many people died?" Ron's breathing began to quicken, "Where are Fred -- and the baby? -- And Luna?" Everyone carried dark expressions; no one wanted to tell them the truth.

Hermione felt crushed under the weight of her grief. She knew most of the answers to Ron's questions and she couldn't move her lips to comfort him. She felt a sense of loss when she saw Ginny and Harry go down, but she knew she had to be strong. Ron had lost not only friends, but family as well. Hermione loved him more than anything, and for that reason, she would not break just yet. She leaned her head into his chest as his breath nervously moved in and out of his body. The silence was overwhelming, and the other shoe was about to drop at any second.

_I sing my stories for you _

_You will sing for me too _

_And together _

_We can make it through _

_They say when you sing _

_You're prayin twice _

_Don't that sound nice? _

_So rise up come on now, and give it a try _

_So sing out sing out loud _

_We can be 6 billion motherfuckers _

_Singing proud _

_So sing glory _

_Glory glory glory _

_Hallelujah _

_And yeah that'll do _


	13. The Boy is Gone

13 The Boy is Gone

_And what becomes of a day for those who rage against it?_

_And who will sum up the phrase for all left standing around in it?_

George could see nothing but the stones of the castle, the rubble he was frantically digging through. He could not see the sunset peak through the clouds, or the many people sifting through the rubble around him. He only saw stones that might be covering Samantha, or at least a piece of Samantha.

There was a cruel irony for George Wealsey to battle through at the moment. He had professed his love for a brilliant muggle girl, which she had accepted. Now, she was most likely dead after standing by him (of all people) in a strange and unfamiliar world.

And to make things infinitely crueler was that Fred lay cold and lifeless in a bed in that horrible makeshift hospital. When the castle collapsed, George's first instinct had been to rush to rescue Sam, despite the fact that he was fighting off Death Eaters. That act had forced Fred to try to stop him. As a result, the last time he saw Fred, Professor McGonagall had been carrying his lifeless body away.

The reality of the situation filled George with shame. Fred and Sam had died, and he was left alone, without his lover or his life-long partner in crime. But the thing that galled him the most was that neither would not live to see what a great world this could be without the ever-present evil of Lord Voldemort. Without the two most important people in his life, George had nothing left to live for He wanted only to find his lover and lie perpetually with her.

_What will happen to a face in the crowd when it finally gets too crowded?_

_And what will happen to the origins of sound after all the sounds have sounded?_

George was a man for his people. He loved good conversation and lively parties. And while he felt himself to be of particular importance, his family and friends were even more so. With the two that topped the list gone, he had no idea what to do.

Despite his state of despair, George heard someone scream nearby, and turned to watch Dean Thomas rush past him to help. He and Bill arrived over another pile of rubble only a moment later.

"I can hear him!" Bill cried. "He's under here!"

"We can't hear anything, mate," Said Dean solemnly.

"You should know that after being raised by a woman with ears like…. a…. hawk" Bill said in between moving large blocks, "how to listen more carefully." He sighed heavily as the infant's crying became clearer. He smiled at George as hopefully as the group began to levitate the rubble with their wands.

Moments later, Draco Malfoy rushed to join the rescue party. He desperately hoped to find Luna alive amidst the debris. But George had lost all semblance of hope. Perhaps wizards could have survived such a disaster, but a poor muggle wouldn't have had a chance, not even one as clever as Sam.

The crowd levitating the rubble began to increase in number until every Weasley save for Fred, Ron and Molly were gathered around a submerged cavern under the broken stone of the castle. Dean and Draco removed the last two stones and everyone gasped, but George couldn't bear to look for fear of what he might see.

_Well I suppose we'll all make our judgment calls,_

_We'll walk it alone, stand up tall, then march to the fall._

"Bloody fucking hell, she's a clever muggle wench!" exclaimed Draco, causing George to glance into the hole in the rubble.

His little nephew's strong cry was coming from a large, black cloth bearing the Weasley Wizarding Wheezes crest on it.

"She must have put the shielding cape over the baby when the walls started to fall," exclaimed Bill. "Sam saved our son, George." He whispered with tears in his eyes.

"Still…" George started "I didn't put enough magic in those capes to withstand the weight of an entire castle."

Draco, Dean, and Bill bent down and carefully removed the cape. The scene was the most peculiar and wonderful thing they had ever seen! Upon removal of the cape, Corbin began to giggle. Sam and Luna were lying next to the infant, covered in dust. Their skin looked gray from it.

It appeared Samantha had indeed acted quickly and cleverly. They were all lying on what had once been the floor. Luna looked somewhat ridiculous, with a shield hat placed squarely over her face, obviously done in an attempt to protect what Samantha had been unable to reach. Sam was curled up at Luna's side with her knees up to her chest. She wore the long, white shield gloves George had given her, and had managed to wrap her strong arms around Corbin so that he had been nestled as close to her as possible. The tiny baby had a little hand resting just at her jaw line, as if he was comforting her. But perhaps the most peculiar thing was the bright orange glow coming from Corbin; the same glow George had seen emanating from his family hug prior to the start of the battle.

"I'll be damned," said Bill. "Family magic put together can be very powerful. The cape and Corbin must have prevented the rocks from doing too much damage," he continued, with awe in his voice.

Draco started to climb down into the pit towards Luna, his eyes filled with hope. Bill followed down the other side.

"They're still breathing! But we had better get a healer before we try to move them," cried Bill as he took his son's tiny hand from Samantha's dusty face. "That's a good little man," he whispered.

In answer to the call for medical assistance, Madame Pomfrey and Molly Weasley came rushing out. "Where's the baby? We need to fix him up," said the nurse, as she seamlessly ran over the rocks. Mrs. Weasley followed closely behind, far too nervous to say anything. George assumed her nervousness was because Fleur had died in the battle, and the fear of losing their whole family was palpable.

" The baby is fine, mum! Sam found an incredibly brave way to save him!" George shouted. Molly sighed in relief, but at the sight of George's face, began looking worried again. Madame Pomfrey washed the dust from the two girls faces with a flick of her wand, and George's skin almost twinged with pain when he saw Samantha covered in cuts and bruises and her cute little hooded sweatshirt torn to shreds.

"She got some serious injuries," cried Poppy. "Let's try to levitate her back to the hospital tent. It's probably better if she remains unconscious while we move her." However, no sooner than as she cast the levitation spell, Samantha's eyes shot open, and she began to whimper.

Overwhelmed with joy, George bent his head down over her floating body and whispered, "Shhh love. Try to stay calm. Save your energy. You're hurt pretty badly."

"The baby?" she whispered.

"He's perfectly alright. You just had to go and show us up us the real hero of the day, didn't you?" George chuckled.

"Well I guess I'll see you at the top, then." She smiled back and clasped his hand in her bloodied fingers for the remainder of the walk.

George stared at Sam with a sudden understanding of what love can do to a person, and hoped it would never stop. Beyond all hope he was left to face only one cruel irony. As he approached the hospital tent, his fears began slowly to return.

_Well I tried to live my life and lived it so well._

_But when it's all over is it heaven or is it hell?_

_So I better be happy now that no one can tell, nobody knows._

All Harry could see was black. All he could feel was the white-hot pain that happened when he cast the final spell. He knew he was dying, he could feel himself drifting further away. In fact, he welcomed death.

Harry knew he had completed his task. He had seen the once great Dark Lord turn into the pathetic form of Tom Riddle before combusting into white dust. The pain Harry felt upon that final connection had proven too great. Still he was relieved to know it was finished, even as the blackness deepened as the pain seared through him like a constant torture. It was over and he would leave behind nothing. The spell he cast along with his friends' help had seen him through his mission. That spell had been invented by Ginny, who, along with his best friends, had sacrificed herself for his cause. With their deaths, Harry knew he would truly leave nothing behind.

_Well I hope I never have to see that day but by god I know it's headed our way_

_So I better be happy now that the boy's going home. _

_The boy's gone home._

Before the end, Harry had seen Ginny jump in front of a spell that Voldemort had meant for him. She had been suspended in the air and was tortured before her limp, pale form had fallen at his feet. He had only been able to grieve for a moment before Ron and Hermione had picked him up and added their power to him to help him defeat his life-long foe. He had seen Hermione fall, and then, as his eyes faded shut, Ron had collapsed as well. He knew beyond hope that they were all dead. He had lost everyone he loved, but found comfort that soon he would follow them beyond the veil.

Still, Harry could hear faint voices in the background, sounding as if they were talking really far away. He knew people were probably trying to save him, but Harry knew it was no use. He no longer had any desire to live, not without Ginny, and not without his closest friends. Yet suddenly, one of the distant voices became louder – closer -- clearer. It was the scream of a girl, but it wasn't the frightened sort of scream like he often heard in his nightmares. Instead, it was a shriek of anger and frustration. Then the screaming subsided until all he could hear were the woman's sobs.

It was getting harder to breathe, and Harry could feel his heartbeat slowing. His mind was rapidly slipping away. Yet he focused on that gentle sobbing, and found it comforting as he began to drift away.

_So we better be happy now that we'll all go home._

_That we'll all go home._

Suddenly, Harry felt a hard blow to his chest and the voices became sharply clearer. Amidst the cries of panic and anger, he still could hear the pleas of that girl.

"No! You are not doing this! Not now! Not after we can finally be normal. Not now that you're free!" Once again, her words slipped into sobs of agony.

Harry began to feel a heavy, warm sensation spreading from his chest to his thighs. He began to drift back toward reality as he focused on her crying.

"Don't leave me," she begged, as he breath rushed desperately against his neck. Harry's mind was fully aware now, blasted awake by the unbelievable recognition of someone he loved.

"Ginny!" he thought. "She's okay." He focused all of his effort to move but nothing would work. For a few horrifying seconds, he tried to move anything on his body, anything to get her to stop crying. As he tried to speak, her voice stopped and the warmth left his chest. The warmth left him as the disembodied sobs faded away. Harry let out a desperate "no" as once again, Ginny was taken from him.

___Because you say that this, this is something else (alright)_

___I say that this, this is something else (well alright) _

Hermione leaned closer to Ron as the scenes in the tent continue to unfold. Ron was glad for her proximity, for he wouldn't have been able to endure all this alone. He watched with horror etched on his face as Angelina and Charlie carried Fred into the tent and laid him upon the table. His lips were blue and he showed no sign of life. Angelina kept her jaw strong as she took a seat next to her lover and gently stroked his hair. It was a nightmare, in which the injured were carrying in the dead, white sheets over their faces, to be placed in purple coffins lined with stars. At the far end of the tent, Ron knew that Oliver Wood and Professor Flitwick were among the dead, and he shed a tear.

Ron also knew that there remained both hope and despair to be experienced. The search parties that had been sent to dig through the rubble had yet to return. Hermione remained desperately worried about Luna. From what she could gather, Luna had been terribly injured to begin with. Then there was still the fate of Samantha and the baby to contend with. Perhaps most importantly, there remained the tragic matter of Harry and Ginny.

Against all odds, Ginny was recovering and was currently being patched up by Alastor Moody, as Mme. Pomfrey had returned to the rubble. While it appeared that Ginny might pull through, Harry was going to have to make it on his own. He needed to fight the effects of such powerful magic on his own accord. At first, Ron thought his friend might do it, but things had turned bad, and now Harry was fading fast.

A loud commotion suddenly caught Ron's attention, causing him to leap from his bed. The crowd parted as a very dusty Bill walked through the tent, holding Corbin tightly to his chest. He handed his infant son to the healers, and fell to his knees, sobbing and exhausted. Ron watched as Neville carefully levitated an even dirtier-looking Luna over to an empty bed. Draco was still clutching her hand.

Cho rushed over to bring her around. After a few quick spells, Luna opened her eyes, licked her thumb, and wiped a smudge from Draco's forehead. The anxiety in the room lessened slightly.

When they levitated Samantha to a bed, Ron was shocked to see her body bloody and bruised. Surely no one could have survived such a beating, but miraculously she had. After a half an hour with Madame Pomfrey, she was even able to walk over to George. She carefully sad behind George on the hospital bed that held his dead brother. Ron observes Samantha rubbing comforting circles on George's back as his body shook with sobs.

Madame Pomfrey approached, worry and nausea fighting it's way to the surface of her determined demeanor. She tried to speak to George, but the sound of his continued sobbing caused her words to lodge in her throat. She turned to Sam, to address her, but with the intent of everyone hearing.

"We have to move young Mr. Weasley into a casket now. There is nothing more we can do for him here. He needs to be at peace," she said, whispering the last few words between choked cries.

George cried fervent apologies over his dead twin as they pulled him away. Fred's left hand was wrenched from Angelina's iron grip as she begged him not to leave her. She shouted in anger after the aurors who carried him off. When Angelina went to draw her wand, Charlie carefully pulled her to his strong chest and let her sob freely. George stood and looked at Samantha with anger, hurt, fear, and dismay. He attempted to say something to her, but couldn't seem to speak. As Samantha stood to comfort him, he disappeared right in front of her eyes.

As Ron watched the mourners and injured gather around each other to seek comfort, Moody had called from the other side of the room. Ron ran over to see his sister. "Ginny's awake, she's okay!" he screamed, as he allowed the first semblance of a smile to cross his face that day.

Hermione also rushed over to Ginny, who was rubbing her eyes as she fought to regain consciousness. Then, to everyone's surprise, the groggy girl's eyes suddenly shot open, and a look of panic spread across her face. As Ginny tried to sit up, she doubled over in pain.

"Now now, take this. It'll ease the pain," Molly said as Ginny gulped down the potion graciously. When she was finished, she looked to Hermione and Ron and began to cry. "Where's Harry?" she whispered in terror.

"He's fading fast, Gin," Hermione said, as soothingly as she could.

"He killed the Dark Lord, but he took a big blow," added Ron, trying to find the upside to an impossible situation.

"Harry," she said, between her sobs as her eyes searched desperately about the room. At last she spotted him, and the sight left her feeling as though she had died. With a mixture of pain and resolution on her face, Ginny leapt from her bed and ran to Harry's side, pounding hard on his chest.

"No! You are not doing this! Not now! Not after we can finally be normal. Not now that you're free," she cried, the rage in her fists subsiding.

Ron was almost in tears himself as he watched his little sister climb on top of Harry's unconscious form and rub her nose into his neck.

Ron walked slowly over to her, and picked her up as if she were a small child. He moved to guide her back to her bed, but was brought suddenly to a halt when they heard the slightest whimper come from Harry's bruised lips.

"No…"

___I'm gonna be happy with the way that I am_

___I'm gonna be happy with all that I stand for_

___I'm gonna be happy now because the boy's going home._


	14. Unfold

**AN: This is the last chapter! I hope you guys enjoy this, and enjoy Deathly Hallows in a few days! If you have been following this story, I NEED to hear from you. This is the end and I'd love some reactions!******

**Also, thanks to my betas Beth and Tom!**

Chapter 14:

Unfold

_Hands in Line___

_Arms close to my side___

_I'm fighting tides ___

_Of an ocean's undertow___

_And I figure that I might not make it_

As she did every morning, Ginny Weasley rose from her bed and hobbled to the cushioned seat in her window. She had been cooped up at the Burrow for two weeks, forced into bed rest as a result of the life-threatening injuries she sustained during the final confrontation with The Dark Lord. So, every morning she would rise, and curl up in the warm morning sun that shined through her second floor window, trying to grasp the gravity of all that had transpired.

The Burrow had become a center for recovery and refuge. Everyone had something or someone to recover from. In the wake of utter chaos, the inhabitants of The Burrow had fallen into simple routines. Ginny knew things would never be as they were before the war, but in the bittersweet afterglow of their costly victory, the survivors craved simplicity. Other things could wait.

Ginny brought her knees to her chest and rested her head on them as she gazed sadly out the window, knowing full well that the morning routines were beginning. Hermione was standing in the dewy grass, still in her nightclothes, with a cup of tea in her hand. She simply stood there, gazing off into the countryside. Fulfilling Ginny's expectations, Ron was the next to stroll onto the lawn, scratching his stomach sleepily. As he approached Hermione, she smiled softly and leaned back into his embrace. As Ron and Hermione adapted to this new daily ritual, they would remain silent. Ginny knew that the rest of the day would be full of activity for Ron and Hermione, and they would argue at least eight times. But the mornings offered them a time to not be war heroes, or recovering soldiers, and just be people.

As the morning progressed, the lawn began to fill with other recovering victims of chaos, but Ginny remained seated at her window. As with every morning, her father and Percy would sit at an old picnic table, engaging in lively debate about what the Ministry should do next. Ginny knew Arthur was glad to have his most intellectual son back and alive, and that their debates provided a way in which their relationship could right itself.

Ginny wondered when things would change – when her family and friends would find the strength to move forward. For now, at least, the routine allowed a way for all of them to cope with the difficulty of life after the war, and the fall of Voldemort.

Of course, the final battle had not meant the end of the agonies at The Burrow. Only moments after Fred's body had been placed in a grave next to Fleur, a grief stricken George disappeared. He had been looking sickly and pale since his twin had become a casualty of war, and his family had been unable to penetrate his shell of despair. After all, what could anyone say to help a person who had just lost a lifetime of companionship? So, without warning, George had turned on his heel and Disapparated with a 'pop'. It destroyed Molly and Arthur and made everyone else feel helpless. So the family Weasley did the only thing they could and went on as best as possible.

It was with this Weasley sort of attitude that Sam came to be another resident of The Burrow. With no friends or family in the country, Sam was lost. She was given Fred and George's old room, where she stayed away from people most of the time, feeling terribly out of place. Yet she remained there all the same, waiting patiently for George to return.

But every morning, Samantha would take her dog for a walk around the gardens, with Corbin nestled tightly against her chest in a carrier. They were two lost souls, Corbin and Sam, for war had made them an unlikely pair of kindred spirits. Seeing Samantha each morning, obviously aching for George, always gave Ginny a lump in her throat. She felt even worse for her nephew.

Upon his return to The Burrow, Bill had locked himself away. He had sealed off the door to the attic and left himself with nothing but a modest bed, a washbasin, and his wedding album. The only reason anyone knew he was alive was because he would always summon his meals directly to his little room. Guilt had taken the harshest toll on poor Bill. Luckily, everyone was ready and willing to tend to Corbin. His little hands brought hope for the broken Weasleys.

_I'm taking empty but seldom speaking___

_and the words retreat___

_Yeah, they breath in histories___

_Still at ease___

_And the story's untold___

_And my arms unfold_

Ginny's tears began falling yet again as she thought of her brothers; one dead, one missing, and one emotionally broken, barely clinging to life. Then, the creaking of the door signaled the beginning of her morning ritual. Harry limped into her room and sat beside her in the window, quietly watching the day unfold. As his arms slipped warmly around her, the Ginny breathed a little more easily. With all that had gone terribly wrong, Harry's survival was the greatest gift Ginny had ever received.

"They'll be back, George and Bill, just give them a little more time," said Harry, running his hands gently across her arms. She was about to respond in her usual way, when a wild shriek of laughter took her attention back to the garden below. Samantha was blowing raspberries on the little baby's tummy, and he was overjoyed. Ginny looked back at Harry and smiled, but his gaze was still locked on the scene unfolding below. With a slight nod of his head, he pointed her attention back to the lawn.

Ginny gasped when she spotted Bill, dressed in a bathrobe and slippers, walking briskly toward Samantha and his son. As he slowly approached, Bill watched his son's playful interaction with Samantha At last, when he had drawn near; Bill kneeled down beside her, and did something fairly unexpected. Following the lead set by the young muggle. Bill blew on his baby's tummy. To Ginny's delight, her nephew squealed with glee, bringing his tiny hands up to touch his father's face.

Taking stock of the situation, Samantha seemed to decide that it was a good time to allow the grieving widower to reestablish himself with his son. And so, Ginny saw, the morning routine was broken, leaving Samantha free to play fetch with her dog.

"At least I have one back," Ginny whispered to Harry, as she shifting slightly, allowing him more room in the cushioned windowsill. As they watched hope rekindling on the front lawn, Ginny slipped her head beneath Harry's comforting arm, She sighed as she settled contentedly, thankful for what they had left after the war, yet still grieving for what they had lost.

"Breakfast!" Molly yelled. Harry lifted Ginny into his arms and Disapparated, arriving almost immediately in the kitchen with a pop, gently; Harry helped her take a seat at the long wood. Ron came bounding in from outside, followed by a windblown Hermione.

Ron had another ritual when it came to Ginny, one that was odd, but understandable. Every morning, he would kiss her lightly on the forehead. Before the war, Ron had never been one to engage in public displays of affectionate, not even with his little sister. Instead, he had demonstrated his love for her by being fiercely protective, or by doing little things such as playing with her when she had been feeling left out.

As she had entered the Weasley family, it had been Bill who had lavished her with affection. Later, the role had been assumed by Fred, who had hugged and comforted her whenever the need might arise. It was Fred who held her as she cried on Platform 9-3/4, terrified as the last of her brothers left home for Hogwarts. When Harry had broken her heart, Fred had not become angry, instead he gave her a hug and said "Harry's a wise bloke, he'll come around." Now, Fred was gone, and the syrupy kiss Ron placed on her forehead left her only a little less empty.

"Oh the Prophet's here!" exclaimed Percy, breaking Ginny's train of thought.

"Sod it!" muttered Harry dejectedly. He had endured more than enough hero worship from a publication that had once tried to ruin his life. Despite a barrage of constant pressure, Harry had decided that he would stay out of the limelight until the memorial service.

The last two weeks of solitude had been good for everyone. Arthur and Percy still went to work, of course, but Arthur had to spend most of his time deflecting questions from the press. The task of cleaning up in the aftermath had stretched the Ministry dangerously thin. Charlie hadn't yet gone back to Romania, because he and Angelina had taken up the task of keeping the shop open in George's absence. It was symbolic, a way to honor the twins and keep the good things in the world good. Ginny thought that it was also a way to keep Angelina strong.

Even Hermione seemed to be taking a break. Everyone assumed that she would be searching for the perfect job now that everything had calmed down, but her friends knew better. While she wasn't gushing and giggling about, Ginny could see that look in her eyes. Despite the pain of loss surrounding them, Hermione and Ron were enjoying one other. Even their constant bickering came with a smirk. For once, they could take their time. Ron was overwhelmed, having just found love and simultaneously watching his family pick up shattered pieces. Yes, Ron and Hermione spent six years getting to the point, but now, the point was here and they could just relish it.

Hermione rose at the tapping on the window. This was another ritual. She got various job offers every day, ranging from extremes such as The Ministry of Magic to The Daily Prophet. Ron and Harry were getting offers as well, mostly from people seeking to capitalize through publicity. But Hermione was flooded. She picked up yet another packet of letters, and fed the owl a treat. After that, she simply vanished the stack with her wand and went back to breakfast. Ginny knew Hermione would probably pore over them at some point in the day, but mornings were protected from the demands of the world.

A black raven then appeared at the very busy window, and caught Ginny's attention. Without invitation, the bird flew to Harry, landed gently upon his shoulder, and dropped a letter in his lap. He opened it quickly and glanced at its content before his face paled. Before Ginny could ask what it said, there was a disturbance at the door. She turned away from her boyfriend, allowing Harry to disappear, unnoticed, with a simple pop.

With her view blocked by Ron's tall frame, Ginny could barely see what was causing the disturbance. Molly leapt up, pushed Ron aside, and squealed with a mixture of happiness and tears. Over her head, George was looking back at Ginny. He was finally home. She sat quietly, as she couldn't really move, and waited for her turn to be wrapped in the arms of her brother.

After Molly had tearfully uttered her sentiments of relief, she quickly went to summon Arthur and Percy back from the Ministry. Ron gave his brother a hearty hug, and a firm handshake. Ginny waited for Hermione to kiss George lightly on the cheek before she could fully have a go at him. Upon everyone clearing the way, George moved quickly to Ginny and scooped her up in his arms. She let her tears soak his shirt without pretense.

_My hands are high___

_And I'm holding on, I'm holding out___

_And I figure that I___

_Figure that I just might make it_

As she pulled away from George, Ginny noticed that he was not only thin and filthy, but also very tan. His arms had darkened, and freckles had overtaken even more of his face. George moved from the horde of Weasleys and flopped weakly at the old table. As Arthur stepped anxiously from the floo, George found himself quickly flanked by his parents.

"Oh honey, you look so worn," Molly said lightly.

"Where have you been these past weeks?" Arthur said, with just as much concern as Molly. George sighed in response, and placed his head in his hands.

"Peru." He said simply.

"Wow, when you disappear, you really go all out," Ron interjected, almost sounding impressed before Hermione gave him a hard quick reminder that this was a sensitive situation.

"Well, two years ago -- the summer after we escaped from Hogwarts -- Fred and I got wind of some impressive new products coming out of a lab in Lima. So, we decided to spend a week trying to make some contacts," he started, though his voice was still strained.

"You said you were off to the coast with Lee!" Molly said, looking falsely affronted, while she grinned with nostalgia.

"That's how you got the powder!" Hermione exclaimed, fully impressed by the twin's marketing skills.

"Yeah," George smiled, "We were so enthralled by their stuff that we ended up placing our orders the day we got there. It's where we got the pygmy puffs too," he finished, looking up at Ginny.

"Maybe that's why Fred said I should have named him Arnoldo," Ginny said with a sad smile.

"Fred loved it there. We had a whole week to kip around the jungles. We cavorted with the natives, met some interesting animals, and ate the best food I've ever tasted…apart from mum's of course. And then, one day, we found the most incredible waterfall -- as high as Big Ben -- I swear! Fred spent five minutes convincing me to jump." George said, misty-eyed.

"You didn't!" Bill gasped, "That's fucking awesome!"

"It was the most amazing feeling. We ran, we jumped, and fell all the way with the water. I had never felt so free. We were going to put up a vacation home there, but once our shop got going, we were too busy to go back," George took a deep breath "I had to go there to say goodbye.

"Maybe, when everything settles down, we'll all go back and have a nice holiday," Charlie suggested. "I've been keeping the shop up with Angelina, so you'll still have enough galleons."

"Oh Merlin! Angie! How's she feeling?" George asked in a panic.

"Don't worry, mate. She's strong. She's out in the yard," Charlie answered.

"Thank you," George said seriously.

"No scales off my hide. Did you just arrive back from your little paradise?" Charlie asked.

"No, I got back two days ago," George said, gazing at everyone apprehensively.

"What were you doing all this time in England?" Molly shrieked.

"Oh mum! I left Sam! I spent the last two days trying to find her!" George cried, before standing up and pacing. Molly started to say something, but George kept lamenting. "I just left her there in the midst of all that fucking rubble. I just left her in an unfamiliar place after everything she went through. I've been to her flat, but it was burned to the ground. She has no family here, her parents are dead and her sister is in The States," George cried, slumping back against the wall and falling to the floor. "How do you find a missing muggle?"

"You could call the police, but a better idea would be to lift your head up," Sam said, bleary eyed as she bent down to meet George's gaze. He lifted his head and gave her a teary smile. Without hesitating, he pulled her to the floor and wrapped his arms around her as if she were something small and precious. They both tried to hide their tears as they muttered hurried sentiments amidst a bevy of kisses.

_See now quality is what you see now___

_in the corner of your eye___

_and don't be surprised___

_if you hear the bells ring ___

_as they form from the sky_

Ginny was so happy to have both of her brothers back that she didn't even notice that Harry was missing until Ron asked where he was.

Harry cautiously walked into the atrium of the Ministry of Magic, attempting to ignore the slack-jawed gawkers who were whispering behind his back. He approached a bored looking receptionist.

"Courtroom Seven, please." Harry said quietly.

"Name?" He asked, never looking up from his paperwork.

"Harry Potter," he said, leaning in close to the desk.

The receptionist quirked an eyebrow but simply said "Hand your wand to the guard and step through the gateway." Harry did as instructed and walked trough the gate. After experiencing a slight tingling sensation, Harry was given his wand, and was escorted down to the familiar dungeon-like basement.

"Good luck finding a seat, son. And thank you, for everything," the guard said gently. Harry looked at the old, gruff man for the first time. He looked somber, but with a semblance of admiration. Harry accepted the man's outstretched hand before going down the long, dark, corridor.

Before moving inside, Harry noticed Luna waiting beside the large iron door, looking expectantly at him. Her whole demeanor seemed foreign to Harry. She was wringing her hands and pacing outside the corridor. She actually looked as though she could cry, her dreamy expression clouded by pools in her large, blue eyes.

"Luna, come here," Harry said, pulling her to him. He knew he had something to take care of, but Luna looked like she needed him at the moment. Harry was inexperienced with emotional things such as this, but he definitely owed Luna Lovegood more than a pat on the back. She rested her head on his shoulder for a moment, and then looked up.

"I didn't know who else to contact, Harry. Who would listen to me anyway? Who would care?" she said, genuinely hopeless. Harry had always found strength and comfort in Luna, and it killed him to see her that way.

"It's okay, Luna. I promise I'll do what I can." Harry answered grimly. An old man called everyone to order, and Harry and Luna walked in to find their seats. Luna continued to speak among the commotion.

"They found us in the forest by my cottage and just took him. They said he was charged with treason and assault as a Death Eater. They just dragged him away! The Death Eaters in Azkaban will kill him for what he's done!" Luna exclaimed through tears.

For as long as he lived, Harry would never understand why Luna, the blank-faced and blunt dreamer he called friend could have taken a fancy to Malfoy, but then again, who could understand Luna? The gavel banged, and Luna quickly straightened her back and moved her expression to a steely one reminiscent of Ginny or Hermione. Together they stepped into the courtroom.

A middle-aged woman with long, dark hair held her wand to her neck, amplifying her voice so all could hear her. She carefully recited the crimes of the accused, which included destroying muggle homes, trading illegal dark items, providing Death Eaters with access to Hogwarts, and generally supporting the efforts of the Dark Lord. The trial started with testimony of his crimes presented by a number of Aurors. Then, the head of the Wizengamet called out, "Bring in the accused."

A cage rose from the floor of the courtroom to reveal Draco, shackled in very tattered robes. His face was covered in fresh cuts, and he sported a black eye that was a deep shade of purple. Harry winced sympathetically in pain. Draco's wrists were bleeding where the cuffs had sliced into his skin. Harry didn't know if Draco had been abused by vengeful guards, or if the damage had been inflicted by other imprisoned Death Eaters. Nevertheless he was surprised by the anger that seemed to boil up within him. Draco had fought valiantly in the final conflict, and while he might be a shite person, nobody deserved treatment such as this.

Draco kept his eyes trained to the floor as he rose. At this, Luna stood; her hands folded neatly in front of her, and met Draco's sullen eyes. Luna stayed, locked in place until Draco had been seated in his cage. Harry put a hand on the small of Luna's back.

_And I'm always holding on___

_And I'm already holding out___

_Said I'm holding out your side___

_And I'm holding out this time_

"Now, the Wizengamot shall hear the defense of Mr. Malfoy. Miss Lovegood has already given an excellent statement, but I fear we need more that one little girl's testimony," Said the official woman, turning her nose up to Luna's shrinking expression.

Harry knew it was his time to speak. He was furious that the Ministry wasn't spending more time rounding up some of the more dangerous followers of Voldemort. And, to call Luna a little girl after all she had done -- all her family had done -- made Harry's infamous temper intensify. Sod Draco. Harry would do this for everyone who had sacrificed something dear for this cause. Harry began to rise slowly, but was interrupted by a soft clearing of a throat from somewhere behind him.

"Of course Mr. Weasley, you are more than welcome to have the floor. A man of your caliber and heroics can surely say his piece." The stern woman said.

"Thank you, Ms. Hopkirk," Arthur said as he walked to the front of the room. Harry was shocked to say the least, but Draco looked up with an expression that said he both wanted to rush out of the room and shrink away. He was genuinely frightened. Harry's understanding of Draco grew with each passing moment. Maybe they were on the same side in more ways than one.

"I will only say a few words," Arthur began, with an aura about him reminiscent of Dumbledore. "This young man is a victim of circumstance, much like we all were during Voldemort's reign of terror. He was pushed into a lifestyle he reluctantly led; yet he still came back to the side of Light. He did not stay Dark. When he was finally given a choice, he chose to fight for good. He did not run, he did not rejoin the Death Eaters. Instead he fought with us. His service has in some way contributed to why our beloved world is still standing. This should erase any misdeeds he has shown in the past. The only killing he's ever done was during that final battle. We know Albus would not have wanted to see any of his students fall victim to what you propose. I ask that he be set free on good faith, and should you doubt any of my words, I am prepared to present many other witnesses who will expound Draco Malfoy's worth."

Upon finishing his sentence, McGonagall, Remus, Tonks, Kingsley, and Moody all walked into the courtroom and stood behind Mr. Weasley.

"I see," Ms. Hopkirk said, with pursed lips. "But the fact remains, that these heinous deeds should not go unpunished."

"Surely not," he replied, almost smirking.

Harry felt himself talking, as if it were someone else. The words simply flowed from his lips, "Don't you think that what he went through is enough? Without even beginning to consider why he looks so beaten and bruised, should we not consider that he fought a very long and very trying battle against the very person you accuse him of following. He cast spells against Death Eaters. He received injuries from former colleagues, and he sifted through every inch of the rubble of Hogwarts to help save the survivors. I would consider that paying a large price, wouldn't you Ms. Hopkirk?" Harry finished through clenched teeth.

Before Ms. Hopkirk could answer him, Harry added amidst an eerie calm, "And if Mr. Malfoy isn't let go today, I would wager there are many members of the press who would love to hear an opinion on the Ministry right from the lips of The Boy Who Lived"

"Mr. Malfoy, you are free to go," Ms. Hopkirk said, stepping down without looking at anyone as she exited the room. There were mixed murmurs of outrage and approval.

Draco lifted his broken frame from the cage he and hobbled out. For the first time, he looked up at the courtroom, his blackened eyes falling on the face of the once again serene girl sitting next to Harry. The bitter, angry scowl that had been cemented into Draco's face fell, replaced by a look of relief. He looked free.

In a flash of legs and butter beer corks, Luna pounced on him. She pulled back and gazed at him quizzically." Now can we finally get on with it?" she asked.

Harry was beginning to feel all kinds of odd watching Draco and Luna express what could only be described as affection.

"Get on with what?" Draco asked, smiling, before wincing at the pain in his face.

"Whatever," said Luna, matters of factly? He smiled, still snarky, but full of mirth.

Harry decided to stroll on over to Mr. Weasley. "I never expected you to stand up for a Malfoy, Mr. Weasley," Harry remarked.

"I never expected you to either," he answered, looking wistful. "I guess we both never suspected that a Malfoy would be on our side. We…" Arthur tried to continue, but was cut off as he saw Luna and Draco approaching. Luna flung herself impetuously into Mr. Weasley's arms.

"Right then, you're welcome," he said, looking sheepish. Luna backed away as everyone looked at Draco, who was, in turn, looking at his feet.

"Umm yes, thank you and all. It's good to know someone at the ministry can do their job," said Draco quickly, avoiding Arthur's outstretched hand. He nodded slightly at Harry and moved hurriedly out of the courtroom.

Harry had wanted to make sure everything with Draco was set to rights. He had left The Burrow so quickly that Ginny was probably worried, but for some reason, though Harry knew he owed Draco nothing, he needed to make sure things would be okay. He walked out of the overbearing door and saw Draco's head buried in the crook of Luna's long neck, his shoulders shaking. She had her chin on his head, and was rubbing his back, staring into space. Harry decided he had done all that was required.

With a quick turn, he apparated back to The Burrow, where he was surprised to see only Ginny pacing the kitchen. She ran over and hugged him, then looked at him sternly. "Don't you EVER disappear like that again. I was so scared! Is everything alright?" she asked, softening her voice and looking at him.

"It is now. Everything will be fine." he replied. He kissed her forehead and sighed. He heard raucous laughter coming from somewhere outside and Harry turned to question the odd behavior, but Ginny just smirked.

"George is back from vacation, and Bill and Corbin are trying to 'punish' him with some tickling jinxes," Ginny answered and sighed contentedly, leaning her small frame into Harry's lanky one.

As her flowery scent filled his senses, Harry began to unfold. The tension he had held in his stomach for eleven years was finally subsiding, and he was happy to be in Ginny's arms. Happy to be someplace he could call home.

_Cause I figure that I, and I figure that I___

_Just might make it and I'm___

_Waking empty but seldom sleeping___

_And the words repeat breathing histories untold___

_But I unfold_


End file.
